SoulMate
by purduepup
Summary: AU, InuKag. Kagome's a medium and matchmaker of sorts; she sees ghosts and slays evil demons and spirits (most of the time). The rest of the time, she plays matchmaker for an immortal who gave her the gift to see red strings of fate. But when she moves to Tokyo and spots an attractive, bipolar demon-ghost combination—her new assistant—things change quickly for better and worse.
1. A Not So Ordinary Life

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I own this plot, and I would appreciate if you didn't take it from me—if you do, then please ask for permission. Thanks!

**A/N: **_WARNING:_ This fiction is rated for language, violence, and sexuality (though this won't come for a while), and Kagome's a bit OOC, but it's all in good reasoning. Oh, and I promise, more of Kagome's personality is in the following chapters; this first is mostly for information. :P

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Youkai _– demon, spirit, monsters; often evil  
_Yuurei – _soul, ghost; those who cannot move on  
_Yougisha – _honorific for a criminal suspect  
_Jukeisha – _honorific for a convict/offender  
_Keibu – _honorific for a police inspector/captain  
_Taijiya – _demon/_youkai _slayer or hunter  
_Reibai – _spirit medium, "ghost-whisperer"_  
Miko _– girl shaman, priestess, aide to a _kannushi_  
_Kannushi – _Shinto priest, owner of a shrine  
_Youkaihanta – _ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Kami – _gods of Shinto, the Greeks of Japan  
_Onryou – _ghosts who'd been wronged in life_  
Ubume – _dead mothers who were giving birth/had kids_  
Goryou – _ghosts who'd been upper-class_  
Funayuurei – _ghosts who'd passed at sea_  
Zashiki-warashi – _child ghosts; not a threat  
_Ningen – _human being, mortal  
_Yue-Laou – _a figure in Chinese traditional poetry  
_Gekkahyoujin – _matchmaker, cupid  
_Kitsune – _a fox demon/_youkai  
Jii-chan_ – an informal way of saying "grandpa"; "Gramps"  
_Oji-chan_ – a formal yet endearing way of saying "uncle"

**Things  
**_Youki – _typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Jyaki – _wicked demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Goshinboku – _sacred tree found on shrine grounds  
_Hakama – _traditional Japanese pants worn daily in the past

* * *

I'm Higurashi Kagome, a new addition to the fair suburbs of Tokyo. There's a high school I'll attend as a third year that's always energetic though some students are lifeless. There's an old house in the neighborhood where the owners always leave sooner or later, though one person stays there no matter what. There's a hospital I'm about to work at down the street where the patients are checked out, yet never leave. There's a graveyard us shrine keepers will go to that's always crowded with people yet never full with bodies. Last, but not least, there's an old tree on my Jii-chan's holy grounds that'll have an odd boy on its branches, sleeping the day away and going unnoticed by everyone. Everybody but me, that is. And what's weird about all these places? Well, they have ghosts. And I'm one of the very, very few people who can see them. Not to mention I can tell whether or not people belong together due to my ability to see red strings of fate on the living's pinky fingers and ankles. Being me is such a great way to fit into a new town, isn't it?

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**1: A Not-So-Ordinary Life**_

* * *

_"There are good days and there are bad days,  
and this is one of them."_

—Lawrence Welk

* * *

The reporter on TV with dark brown hair and perky breasts kept babbling. _"Recently, the wide-ranged murder cases occurring across west Kyoto have all been solved. Back in the beginning, when the bodies were found, it seemed as if nothing had happened, yet when autopsies were performed, medical researchers found that all internal organs—guts, heart, liver—were missing. Strangely, there were no scars or marks to prove that a procedure had been performed, and there was no evidence found at the crime scene to draw any conclusions to possible suspects. Authorities began calling this phenomenon 'the Open Heart Case', and it went on for two months, killing sixteen people on the west side of Kyoto. _

_"However, just a week ago, the murders had been solved when a man, who only addressed himself as Kotatsu, had rushed into the Kyoto Police Department, where he'd confessed to the killings. After interrogation, police believed Kotatsu Jukeisha to be insane. Nobunaga Keibu had this to say about the killer: _'So far, this man has claimed to have used magical ink demons for his murder weapon. Kotatsu Jukeisha told us that the youkai would enter the victims' bodies in an ethereal form, pull out their guts, and bring the goods back to him in order to survive. We have taken him into custody and discussed sending him to a mental asylum.'_"_

Blah, blah, blah…

_"The killings stopped after that," _the female reporter goes on, never getting tired of hearing her own voice, I'd bet. _"When questioned about his sudden change in heart, Kotatsu Jukeisha had only said, _'I cannot reveal my manipulator. My very life may be in stake—she'd kill me.' _The question is, is this 'manipulator' a hero or someone to look out for? Citizens and officials are leaning towards the latter, Nobunaga Keibu already having a few leads as to who Yougisha may be. They're afraid the female will be a risk to Kyoto's health despite her possible assistance in the Open Heart—"_

My eye twitches, and I throw the remote at the television, tired of them talking about my latest mission. I mean, mother of all that's—! That bastard had what was getting to him. Really. After doing my research and discovering who was killing everyone, I tracked Kotatsu down and threatened him. Of course, he unleashed his effin' youkai on me, but they were easy to deal with; all it took was a zap of miko power, and _bam_! You have officially killed a demon, whether they are made out of ink or not. The real problem was convincing that son of a bitch not to rat out even a detail of my identity—including gender. I told him not to even mention me or our meeting. But, as fate would have it, I'm now Public Enemy Number One, a yougisha, and in my kind of hometown at that.

Great. Just freakin' peachy.

I sigh and begin packing up my bags. I grab clothes, personal treasures, books, and the necessities from everywhere in my room, tossing them into whatever container I can find. I'm always prepared to pack; with a life like mine, you never know when you'll have to leave your current location. And though this is my first time having to move, I've been prepared for years now, because if there's the slightest chance that youkai and yuurei-gone-bad find out about me, I could die just as easily as a salted slug.

Souta will not be happy to hear we have to move, but oh, well—it's not my fault Kotatsu's a dumbass. I zip one suitcase shut before hopping over to Souta's room across the hall. We're currently at our second cousin Tsuyu's house. Being ten years older than me at the age of twenty-eight, she's a big-time businesswoman right here in the heart of Kyoto, and has allowed us to stay in her home ever since our parents died eight years ago, when I was ten and Souta was five. Sure, we could've moved in with Jii-chan, but whenever we'd visited him, he was a total crackpot. And if you haven't realized it yet, you should never raise growing kids with a senile old man—_never._

Sadly, I'm sorry to say that we're going to see him very, very soon. I knock on Souta's door, and it opens quickly, despite him taking his precious time to stomp up to the doorway. With a bed head and all, he barks groggily, "What?" before plopping back down on his futon.

Gods. Stupid thirteen-year-old boys. "Twerp, get up!" I shout, making him pop up some. "We're gonna move!"

Now he's up all the way. "Why?"

I sigh. "Technically, the idiot police have mistaken me for the bad guy." He gives me a dumb look. "I can't risk it, okay? Now, c'mon, pack up. We're heading out in the morning."

Souta whines sleepily, "It _is _morning!"

"Eh, shut up," I mutter. "It's almost three hours after midnight. Nothin' big."

"NOTHING BIG?" Souta screeches.

I shoot him a hard glare when I hear Tsuyu panicking at the loud noises he's making. _Moron, _I think to the male teenager as our cousin bursts through the door in her nightgown. "What happened?" she asks breathlessly.

My eyes turn into slits as I glower at Souta, who hides under his covers. I explain, "You know how I told you we might leave at any time?" She nods. "Well, it's time."

Her dark eyes turn sad. "Really, Kagome? You've been living here for eight years now, and _now_ it's a threat that people may know about you?"

"Uh…yes?" I say, not wanting to tell her the entire reason we have to go since she'd be more heartbroken than she is right now. She sighs, and I get up to wrap my arms around her slim form. She embraces me back, and I can feel her tears on my face and clothes. _Aw, man. _"Tsuyu?" She looks at me expectantly, and I feel my heart drop. "We'll come to visit every other week, okay?"

She nods tightly, and I exhale. I'd never wanted to leave this place. Really. Tsuyu's been like my mother since the accident; she's always warm, kind, and understanding, wanting us all to go on vacations and spend time together like a not-so-messed-up family. Souta, not really remembering our parents, always thought of me and her as his parents. It must be just as hard on him as it is for me.

I probably never would've gotten into this mess if I'd never been with my parents when they died. Seriously. I remember: It was my tenth birthday; Jii-chan was babysitting Souta while Mama, Papa, and I all went to my favorite J-pop band _Cream_'s concert to celebrate. On the way home, Papa was still a little mellow because of some sake he'd had, and Mama was so happy, she jumped around in her seat. My parents looked relaxed and carefree; it put me in a good mood, too. Mama turned around in her seat—

_"Hey, Kaggie honey bear."_

_"What, Mama?"_

_"You wanna see a magic trick?"_

I loved those. Her stupid, silly gag tricks got me every time, and I still giggled when they came around. _"Yeah!"_

_"Okay." _She took out her ruby necklace from underneath her shirt and swung it in front of my face, trying to hypnotize me. _"When I count to three, you will fall into a deep sleep. When I snap my fingers, you'll wake up and obey my every command. Okay?"_

_"Gotcha." _I'd said it confidently, prepared for anything. Together, we both chanted,_ "One…two…three—!"_

Then a flash of light came and everything went dark. Long story short, I was spirited away and gained the ability to see yuurei, which led to me exorcising and befriending them, which led me to learning the existence of youkai. No one but me, reibai, psychics, spiritual beings, and taijiya know about these creatures. We hunt and kill them most of the time, if not turn them good or help spirits move on; since we're given the abilities, I guess it's just our job to follow out orders. And let's just say, seeing the connection between soul mates and being a gekkahyoujin is pretty weird, too.

An even shorter version of it all: my life sucks.

I guess I should start from the beginning. I'd lived in Tokyo my whole life with my parents and little brother in a small apartment. We were always happy, and though we didn't have many family members or friends, we were content with how things were. During a car accident with my parents on my tenth birthday, I blacked out and moved to the spirit world. I somehow returned to reality, obviously, but while unconscious, gained the ability to see yuurei.

It was kind of weird to see my own parents' spirits before me, but after that, I was still baffled. _Why me? _was a reoccurring question in my head. All I'd caught on to was that I needed to "help out in any way" possible, and that I could see people no one else could. Souta and I, then orphans, moved in with Tsuyu, visiting Jii-chan once a month. He was too old to take care of kids who didn't know anything about home life or chores or work, so we moved in with the woman who'd just become of age and could mother us to adulthood.

And, once again, Jii-chan's a crackpot.

Of course, one year after the accident, I learned what it meant to "help". The first passing on I'd ever did was to a baby bunny that'd never been snuggled up to by its abusive owners. I'd mistook it for a normal one, a rabbit you'd see in a petting zoo, and cuddled it in my arms. When that happened, it evaporated into mist and the same light that took my parents surrounded it before it disappeared completely. It was then that I began researching ghosts, mediums, and exorcisms. This is where I explain my world to you:

Yuurei are ghosts with things keeping them from moving on. It can be that they never completed something nor got to say goodbye to someone close to them; honestly, there's millions of reasons for staying behind. The most common is being overpowered by great emotions such as revenge, love, jealousy, hatred, or sorrow; people who commit suicide or are murdered also can stay behind as spirits. Those who died before their time or have many regrets also turn into ghosts. Yuurei are usually harmless and just try to get to the next world without much help while others decide to do immoral deeds in these forms.

By doing majorly wrong things in ghost-form, they turn into evil spirits. This is where people like me, youkaihanta, come in. We ghost busters of the modern age are those who can see yuurei and have the ability to help them pass on, whether it be through force, exorcism, fighting until it's weak and desires to truly die, or simply convincing them to move on. Ghosts can be dangerous since they too have supernatural powers, though theirs go more along the lines of setting up illusions, trying to send you to one of the eight hells, or hurting you without touching you (aka, magically throwing inanimate objects your way). But, at the same time, you stand a chance through the techniques mentioned.

Yuurei can only touch other spirits and those who can see them—anything out of the norm, including demons and reibai, are things they can naturally have contact with. They can train themselves to touch average objects, though it takes much time to even pick up a pencil. Psychics, beings possessing spiritual power, and some taijiya can also see yuurei, though the spirits come across as a haze instead of the clear, real-life vision I and other reibai have.

Youkai are demons and monsters who are living, but evidently non-human. Some are even spirits, though they weren't really once living or innocent. Most youkai I've heard of are evil; I've never really met one who didn't try to kill me at least once. They were likely found during feudal times, but now most of them are ghosts—either that, or in hiding, disguising themselves as humans. They all have their own reasons for the things they do, no matter how ethical or malicious they are, and there are demon-hunting organizations filled with taijiya who hunt down certain youkai whenever something weird's going on. It's kind of like my job, though they don't focus on yuurei as well. I'm not in a group—I work on my own—but I've come across societies before, and that's where I'd received my weapons and combat training from. Most often, youkai are the ones to cause the crimes and murders I check into; yuurei are more of the gossip going around, like _isn't this weird? _or _something's up. _Demons, however, are often just full-blown _call the police, there's something wrong! _situations. All youkai also have youki, or your average demonic energy. It's an aura that shows off their strength and heritage; you can tell who you're fighting when you feel their youki, whether they be an animal-like demon or malicious remains. Some youkai have jyaki, though, which is kind of like youki, but only youkai with completely evil intentions and powers have jyaki; you have to see the differences between youki and jyaki to know if a youkai means well or not.

Reibai are those who can see ghosts, and as far as I know, you have to be spirited away or have a near-death experience—both of which I've experienced. Since I'm a miko as well, I guess you could say my powers are more enhanced than normal reibai or spiritual beings—spirits are like living people to me, and I can make them somewhat visible to the average eye if I want to. Normal ningen can't see yuurei without assistance, though if youkai reveal themselves to the humans, they'll see them just fine.

There are many types of yuurei and youkai, but I'll just explain yuurei right now, since youkai are too in-depth. Onryou are vengeful ghosts who stay in the physical world due to a wrong done to them during their lifetime. Ubume are mothers who died in childbirth or left young children behind; they come back to their kids in death and try to take care of them from there. Goryou are rancorous spirits who were of the aristocratic class, most of them especially coming back if they were martyred. Funayuurei are those who have died at sea; I've yet to see one, though I've heard they may look somewhat like a fish or mermaid in their ghost-form. Zashiki-warashi are the souls of children, though they're more mischievous than dangerous, but they can still turn into evil spirits. Samurai ghosts are those who'd died in battle, though they have various reasons for staying behind, and then there are seductress ghosts, the yuurei that have post-death love affairs with living humans.

Ever since I found out about the world of the dead, I've "ghost hunted", for lack of a better term—I help out any yuurei I can and tame those who're evil and black-hearted. It's been my volunteer work for the past seven years. After hazardous missions like crimes and murders involving ghosts began to pop into my agenda, I told Tsuyu of the danger and warned her that I may have to move at some point if it got too bad. Of course, at that moment, I hadn't realized a lot of the ghosts I was seeing were youkai, too, but demons are just as difficult as effin' ghosts. It was annoying at first, but then it got easier, especially when I discovered I had sacral powers down the long road ahead.

At first, I wasn't really sure how I got the ability, but when I hit puberty at thirteen, I began seeing red strings wrapped around people's pinkies or ankles. A kind, elderly married couple passed once during all this confusion and I asked why they had a red string tied to their legs, connecting them together. Thinking nothing of my strange inquiries, they merely told me the tale of the red string of fate, where soul mates were destined to come together and fall in love. They told me that no matter how tangled and lengthened the string became, it never broke—meaning that no matter what hardships and obstacles came between you and your destined, you were still meant for each other and born to be together. I decided to do research on ningen possibly being able to see these possible strings, but was quickly stumped.

It was very puzzling to me, this whole supernatural business in general. When I began noticing more couples—whether they be romantic or just friends—with the red strings on their hands or feet, I finally realized I could see the bond between soul mates. I figured out anklets stood for stable relationships while pinky strings represented unstable bonds; when someone falls with it tied to their pinky, the other falls, too, and it's hard to get back up again, whereas if someone with an anklet falls, the other will help them get back up easily. Makes sense? It should; I tried making it understandable. And I didn't know how I, a reibai and miko, could have attained such an ability, but I used the skill to my advantage, setting up people tied together and helping them find each other, plus fall in love. Let me just say, I have never failed once before.

My whole life, I've been playing as a ghost whisperer and matchmaker, plus occasional demon slayer on the side. Not only that, but I also had to keep attending school and, I don't know, _live a normal life_, not to mention raise money for university by getting some jobs. After eight years of living in Kyoto, while in my third and last year of high school and as I aspire to become a doctor, I can't believe I'm going to move away, leaving the loving Tsuyu behind along with all my goddamn friends and crushes, no matter how few I may've had.

And it's all because of stupid Nobunaga Amari Keibu—aka, Tsuyu's soul mate. Though she knows I have special gifts, I haven't told her Mr. Klutz is her man-to-be, because this man has been the reason why I've been so cautious with crime missions recently; he's on to me, and that's not good. So, what else should I have to do but run?

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

The ride to Tokyo is boring, tiring, and saddening all at once. Tsuyu has to drive us because I haven't taken any driver's lessons yet due to my busy schedule. Her car's small, thus crammed with all our crap—there's our bikes, bags, suitcases, boxes, and other stuff in the trunk, and it takes up more than half of the backseat, squishing Souta to death, much to my amusement. Meanwhile, Tsuyu plays _Cream_ as I check all my pockets and secure areas for weapons. I have my blessed knives, three guns, holy water, purification dust, chalk, and grave soil—most of it's for exorcising demons, but can be helpful on ghosts, too, though evil spirits need calming down more than anything else. My bows, arrows, swords, and all that good stuff is in my luggage since they're too big to carry around.

Tsuyu watches me check my weapons, sighing heavily. "Are _all_ of those necessary?" I give her a look that says_ yes, they are_. She sighs again before watching the road intently. She hates how I put my life in danger, but I've got to stick to my goal and keep my promise of helping others. Gods, I hate it when she gets that depressed glint in her eyes. Right now, it makes me feel like a total jerk.

I give her an apologizing look before checking out the pamphlets of everything that'll soon be in my life: my new high school, Souta's new middle school, the hospital I've sent a job application to for a nursing position, and our new home, Jii-chan's old Shinto shrine. So far, the Higurashi (or "Sunset") Shrine's interested me most, since the booklet's more interesting than hearing the old coop go on about our family legends and the amazement of his inheritance. There are multiple sections of the shrine that catch my attention. The Bone Eater's Well, the Sacred Tree, some shacks made for holding artifacts, and the shop where Jii-chan sells all of his products. I've only ever visited the shrine before, so I wonder what it'll be like to actually _live _there. I'm sure our crazy grandpa's going to fire all of his help and put me and Souta to work in both the shrine _and _the house. Which, you know, he can't—or shouldn't—do to me since I already have my heart set on that hospital.

I guess it's weird to people who know what I do for a not-so-living—you know, tasks involving yuurei, youkai, and romance—that I would want a career in medicine of all things. Sure, there's the benefit of treating to my wounds if I ever obtain any (though my miko powers are useful enough), but that's not even close to my reason for wanting to become a doctor. I guess I just want to help people more than I am right now.

I look back at Souta; he wants to be a soccer star, and is showing it ever-so-excitedly by always wearing sports clothes or carrying around a soccer ball. "How much longer?" he whines to Tsuyu, and she just smiles and tells him _one hour_. Since we've already been driving for more than two hours, Souta groans before tapping his ball impatiently, probably wanting to get to the spacious shrine grounds to play.

I roll my eyes at his maturity and begin reading some Tokyo newspaper clippings from the internet. I focus on crime, local events, and anything else that can land me a mission. I'm trying to find something, anyways, when Tsuyu gives me those sad eyes again. I raise an eyebrow at her look. She explains, "Despite seeing you do this for almost seven years, I can't help feeling you might get hurt one day." I don't bother to tell her how many wounds I've healed with my holy powers instead of asking for her help—so many injuries she has no idea existed. "Just knowing that I won't be able to see you every day and know that you're okay… It scares me, Kagome."

I look away when tears brim her eyes. She always was too nice and emotional; I can't handle seeing her breakdown. It hurts me, too. "I'm sorry, Tsuyu," I whisper, "and I truly mean it. But I can't back out—not now, not ever." I give her a solid stare. "This is my duty as a reibai and miko: work as an independent taijiya and youkaihanta. No matter what, I'll just keep doing this until my job's done." When that'll be, I don't know—I'll just have to wait until my mother sends me a message. Whether it be through dreams or reality, I have the feeling that somehow, wherever she is, she'll tell me when I've fulfilled my promise to her.

Tsuyu focuses on the road again, and Souta stops watching silently from the back. He just turns and stares out the window before getting situated for a nap. Suddenly realizing how sleepy and exhausted _I _am, I close my eyes, attempting to wipe away any thoughts of my insane life from my mind.

Of course, this doesn't happen.

Sometimes in my dreams, the idiot who gave me the ability to see red strings—Yue-Laou—calls upon me to visit him in death or whatever. On my sixth night with the skill, I found myself having a weird dream where an old man talked to me about it and further discussed red strings of fate. It was the night I realized what was going on. Then, of course, he kept showing up and talking to me about my little job playing matchmaker. He's _Yue-Laou_, people; the man of Chinese legend known for bringing soul mates together. How he gave me the ability is what I don't know, though I'm pretty sure I know why I see these red strings.

The jerk decided, without consent, that I would be one of his successors.

Most people would think since he's big and famous that he lives up to the word of being a cupid, right? Well, he may be able to assign people to each other, but he sucks at matchmaking, for one thing. Because of him, there's a lot of dysfunctional relationships. Another thing: Since he's always up in the land of Kami—because he died long ago—I can only visit him through my dreams.

While asleep, I stomp through the clouds angrily to his section of the sky. Upon seeing me, the tall, skinny man grins in greeting. "Hello, Kagome," he says, sipping some tea in front of him as he sits cross-legged. "Have a seat, why don't you?"

"Why in the hecks did you call me?" I yell, not paying him any mind. "You only bring me here for important reasons at important times, so what's oh-so-_important, _'Laou?"

"I will explain once you take a seat," he says sternly yet calmly, taking another sip of his freaking tea. I scowl, not bothering to even be kind to the pillow as I plop down on it. I hate it when he brings me here. He just gets on my nerves, being overly formal yet informal at once and everything. Besides, whenever I'm summoned, he mostly lashes out on me for doing something wrong, despite him being horrible at his own job. He asks me, "Just how many couples do you bring together in a month, Kagome?"

I grimace when he says my name as if he's close to me, but shrug it off, already used to his relaxed attitude for the most part. I count the pairs on my fingers—I've never been good at mental math—before answering, "I help and kill about three to eleven yuurei and four to seven youkai a month, but making couples? Probably one to none relationships are formed in a month. Why?"

He sips his tea again, and I bristle at his sudden change to formality. "The number you should be obtaining is somewhere near a dozen."

Well, _that _sucks. But why should it matter if I make the mark or not? He can't take away my powers; I've already asked for him to do so in order for me to avoid angry, dysfunctional couples' wrath in the future. "So? What about it?" I question with a raised brow.

He raises one back. "You're eleven behind on the average per month, Kagome." I frown. "It's your duty as a gekkahyoujin to bring people together and make them fall in love."

"Aren't they supposed to do that on their own?" I gripe, fisting my hands at my sides and huffing in annoyance. "Isn't that what the _strings _are called? 'The red string of fate or destiny', meaning _no _interference should be needed?"

He smiles knowingly. I grind my teeth together. "We _are_ the people who control fate, Kagome." I hate the sound of my name on this moron's tongue. "Without those who control fate and make sure it happens, how will anything ever occur?"

"What about Kami?" I question. "Aren't _they _supposed to do this stuff?"

He sighs, finally breaking some of his businesslike façade. "We have already discussed this before, Kagome. Kami are extremely busy, and besides, they're not in charge of people's relationships—that's _our _job."

I mumble something unintelligible to his ears, and he returns to smiling. I snap, "_Fine. _I'll work around my job, my chores, my school life, my social life, my hunting life—_everything_—just to make sure freakin' couples end up with each freakin' other."

He grins again. "Now that _that's _out of the way…" He hands me something from the table, and I narrow my eyes. He offers properly, "Jelly doughnut?"

I shake my head before tapping my temple. Getting the message, he sends me back to the normal dreamland, though I don't dream. I wake up in Tsuyu's car, not bothering to look around when I open my eyes. We must be in Tokyo now, because there's large office buildings and the Tokyo Tower amongst neon lights. I exhale and feel Tsuyu's eyes on me as she realizes I'm up. I turn and give her an assuring beam. Surprisingly, she must've stopped worrying too much like she does whenever I'm too professional, because she smiles back brightly as she drives down a street that takes us away from the bright lights and closer to smaller structures. The casual, ranch exteriors mean we're entering Tokyo suburbs, leaving the lively Tokyo city behind. I've always liked suburbs, anyway; they're quieter, calmer, and it's much easier to find youkai and yuurei here, even though the cities carry more of them quantity-wise.

We pass by the hospital I want to work at on our way to the family shrine. It's your typical place: white exterior, big red cross, a few levels high, has a large parking area—the works. I'm able to see some spirits wandering around outside already; they all walk through things and wander around with no purpose. Another reason I want to work in medicine is because of that. If I get a job at a hospital, I can make money while I also help the yuurei who'd died there and haven't been able to move on.

We're right by the shrine when I see an old-looking house next-door. A young couple are packing things into a truck while another man nails a _FOR SALE _sign into the ground. On the porch, I see a little boy ghost looking sadly at them. How do I know he's a yuurei? His feet are going through the porch, making them touch solid earth; that should be enough proof. He's also a youkai, because there's youki coming off him. He must've wanted to try to talk to them, but scared them off instead; they're packing their things like they're in a rush, frightened for their lives. And yet, this kitsune's face looks extremely sad to see them go, as if it's happened a million times before, but he couldn't get used to it. I promise myself to go see him when I have the chance, just to brighten up his face a bit.

Finally, we stop in front of the shrine steps, Tsuyu coming to a soft pause before she rips the keys out of the ignition. "Ready?" she says. I have the feeling it's more towards herself, that we should be asking that, but Souta and I both nod anyways before grabbing some bags and rushing up the stairs.

It's a long trip, but finally, we make it to the top to see the shrine grounds. Souta's literally kissing the cement while I have to deal with Jii-chan, who beelines my way. "Kagome! Souta!" he croaks, giving me a wide grin. "How have you been? What're you doing here? I thought you weren't going to visit for a while!"

I blink and stare before blinking again. "Uh, Jii-chan?"

"Hm?" he says, leaning on his broom nonchalantly. He still looks astonished to see us.

I frown. "Tsuyu and I called you this morning; we talked a few hours ago. Souta and I have came to live here, remember?"

Now it's his turn to look confused as his eyes widen. "Your father's cousin Tsuyu's here?" Then, almost as if it was more shocking— "You _called_?"

Just then, Tsuyu walks onto the leveled grounds. "Yes, we called, Oji-chan." Ah. She must've heard most of it. "We told you through that phone call that Kagome and Souta were ready to come and live with you." She would never inform Jii-chan that his theory of youkai existing is true; she wouldn't tell him about my abilities or what I do, either. Honestly, I agree with this logic since it seems whenever something happens—a pen dropping, something disappearing—Jii-chan automatically assumes it's a demon coming to get us. I'd rather not increase his paranoia any further than we possibly have.

"Oh, I suppose you did," he said, though still sounding baffled and unconvinced. I sigh. "Well, what're you waiting for? Grab your bags and get in! Tsuyu, you can make some food for us!" My eyes narrow. Somehow, the topic of this family member being related to me is in question. Supposedly, he's my dad's dad, but secretly, I'm hoping he broke out of a mental asylum for old people and stole the identity of my real grandfather. This man's forgetful, traditional, stereotypical, and _old. _

As Souta lugs my bags for me, Jii-chan saying how the boy shouldn't let a woman do "a man's work", I spot something in the tree to the right of the shrine. In the way back is the house, to the left of that is the well house, and in other areas, there are the shacks and shop. But when you first enter, there's a tree—Goshinboku. I see movement coming from it and whip around to see what had caused it. Sadly, the tree's canopy is covering it up; all I see is feet and red hakama as I feel faint traces of youki. I wonder how a youkai got in here since shrines should have protective barriers to prevent demons from trespassing. With my hands ready to grab my weapons, I'm about to go investigate when Tsuyu's eyes fall on me—I can feel her worried stare. I sigh, telling myself I can go find out why a youkai's here later, and walk to the house with my second cousin at my side.

But I feel eyes on me the entire time.

* * *

**A/N: **That's the first chapter of _SoulMate_. Tell me what you think so far! ^.^


	2. Bipolar Hanyou

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
__Hanyou – _half-_youkai_, half-anything else  
_Reibai – _spirit medium, "ghost-whisperer"_  
Kannushi – _Shinto priest, owner of a shrine  
_Youkaihanta – _ghost buster, spirit hunter  
_Ningen – _human being, mortal  
_Gekkahyoujin – _matchmaker, cupid_  
Inu _– obviously, dog in Japanese_  
Inugami – _a dog demon/_youkai  
–san_ — "Mr.", "Mrs.", and "Miss" in Japanese

**Things  
**_Shide – _zigzag-shaped paper streamers  
_Youki – _typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Jyaki – _wicked demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Shikon no Tama _– Jewel of Four Souls  
_Hakama – _traditional Japanese pants worn daily in the past

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**2: Bipolar Hanyou**_

* * *

_"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy,  
the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese,  
the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance,  
Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three most powerful men  
in America are named 'Bush', 'Dick', and 'Colon'."_

—Chris Rock

* * *

"I swear he's senile," I whisper to the thirteen-year-old on my right. Souta nods fervently in agreement. It's always great talking about Jii-chan behind his back. But, of course, the old coot somewhat, sort of overhears.

"You swear he's seen the Nile where?" he asks, turning away from Tsuyu, who he'd been having a very intellectual conversation with. When we look at him bleakly, he huffs and turns back to our second cousin, beginning his oh-so-wonderful speech again. "Anyway, so there was a hanyou who came along—"

"Hanyou?" I echo, popping up from the pillow next to Souta and jumping across the low-risen table. I land on the seat across from Tsuyu, next to Jii-chan.

His eyes widen at my abilities, and he blinks before shaking his head. He must've thought he imagined it. I don't blame him; he's pretty old _and_ bonkers… "It's an old story, Kagome," he rasps, scooping up some noodles. "Were you not listening?"

I shake my head honestly, not in the least embarrassed. Normally, I would've been, but with Jii-chan, it's more than easy to space out. After he fake-sniffles, he explains, "Five hundred and fifty years ago, there was a powerful miko with spiritual powers." You know, despite people not believing they ever existed. "She was well-known throughout the lands, and praised for her work despite her young age. When she turned eighteen, she was given an almighty jewel called the Shikon no Tama."

"The Jewel of Four Souls?" Souta pipes in, taking sudden interest in this story as well, though for different reasons. Souta's always loved hearing about anything involving supernatural—that's just him—whereas I'm curious because Jii-chan's mentioned a hanyou. Last time I'd checked, half-demons don't exist. As in, it's impossible for a youkai to mate and have children with a human—I'm pretty sure their chemical make-ups wouldn't mix well since a cross between species is unlikely.

"Yes, now _shush_!" Jii-chan snaps, and Souta and I cringe away. "As I was saying—_ahem_—she was to purify the jewel and keep it safe from youkai and evil ningen. It was said that the Shikon no Tama had very strong powers—it could enhance a demon's strength and even make humans youkai. It could grant any wish."

"Any?" Souta asks in awe. I give him a dull expression, though I seriously wanted to ask the same thing. Even if Jii-chan's crazy, it doesn't mean his stories are—especially since demons _do _exist, there was bound to once be an object known as the Shikon no Tama as well.

"Yes," Jii-chan croaks, clicking his chopsticks. "The miko fought off the wicked people and spirits, protecting the jewel and purifying it whenever she could. She kept it in a sacred location—a Shinto temple—which was protected by guards of sorts. However, she came across a hanyou one day, who'd been after the jewel. They did not kill each other, however. Soon was the miko to regret this decision when on a night of the full moon, the hanyou _broke_ into the temple, _stole_ the Shikon no Tama, and _fled _the village!"

I jump slightly when Jii-chan seems to be really getting into his story. "Then what?" I ask. "Did she kill the half-demon?"

"No," Jii-chan says, then looks as if he just realized how strange that was. "With a battle wound pulling her down, she followed the hanyou to the nearest Goshinboku. There, she pinned the hanyou to the tree, sending the hanyou into eternal slumber, the only one able to awaken the hanyou being the woman whose spiritual power bound the hanyou there."

"Say, has Jii-chan ever heard of the words 'he' and 'she'?" Souta asks me. "Doesn't the half-demon have a _gender_?" I just shrug, intent on hearing Jii-chan's story, even if he's saying "the hanyou" way too much. Surprising, I know, but this tale's different somehow.

"The village regained the jewel, but the miko passed away after the hanyou had been pinned," he goes on. "Her last request was for the Shikon no Tama to be burned with her body so that it could be with her in the afterlife. THE END!"

"Nice job, Jii-chan," I mumble, kind of mad that he ruined the finale. "But what happened to the half-demon? Where is he now?"

"HE?" Jii-chan laughs. "YOUKAI DON'T HAVE GENDER!"

I narrow my eyes at him since I _know _they do. In fact, Souta, Tsuyu, and I all know how real youkai are. Jii-chan just depends too much on legends and stuff to discover the truth. Once the old man calms down, he says, "They say that since that day, his body was so enchanted by the tree and arrow's spiritual powers, he didn't age. His body was frozen in time, defying all logic. However, it was told that a century after the miko died, his entire body was so covered with vines that the tree trunk expanded. If I'm not mistaken, he'd be in the Goshinboku at this very moment."

"And you believe this is real?" Tsuyu asks worriedly, setting down her tea cup.

Jii-chan gasps. "OF COURSE IT'S REAL!" I give him a bored look. "Kagome, don't be wary of your elders! There's a mark on the tree trunk, showing where he'd been pinned!"

My eyes widen a fraction, but I still have my _I'm not interested _act on to throw the old man off. "Oh, really? Show me."

"FINE!" Jii-chan huffs. He stands up, and we all tower over him as we walk from the tea room into the living room. He hastily waddles through the front door, practically _strutting _across the shine grounds. He's about to head up to the Goshinboku, but for his own safety—regarding the person I saw earlier—I stop him from going any further with my arm and proceed forward to investigate by myself.

The bark's light and rugged, like any six-century-year-old tree's would be. There's shide wrapped around it, the zigzags stirring ever-so-slightly from the nightly breeze. You'd think there wouldn't be a peaceful wind like that in Tokyo, but I guess even nature can surprise me at times. I scan the tree from top to bottom, stepping over the small rim that keeps animals out. I walk up to the tree boldly, searching for the hole. Surprisingly, right above the shide, there's a small dent where the arrowhead has been burrowed. My eyes turn into slits at it, watching as it glints in the dark night. Judging from the looks of it, where I stood, it looked to be from the feudal era, even though it's surprising the mark hadn't faded from the tree "expanding". And if this was used on the hanyou from the story, then half-demons really _do _exist.

Pff, yeah. And I'm not a ghost whisperer, demon slayer, or matchmaker in-training.

I face Tsuyu and Souta, nodding in confirmation. If someone had done this towards people who weren't so accepting of youkai existing, then the people would've insisted that the arrowhead was planted there. But, being related to me and knowing of my abilities, the two's eyes widen in surprise. Jii-chan nods defiantly, and his mouth opens as he probably goes on about how he's always right. I wouldn't know, because a swift rustle from above just alerted me that us Higurashi aren't alone.

On instinct, I grab a sanctified pocketknife, take cover, and throw it upwards, only for it to hit solid bark. _Damn it, _I think angrily and send a warning glance at Souta, telling him to get Tsuyu and Jii-chan out of here. He nods immediately and runs off with our relatives, leaving me with whoever has invaded the shrine grounds.

I draw another dagger, eyeing the area all around me. I see blurs of someone running around—obviously, a youkai—but I can't distinguish their features. All's quiet besides the rustling and Jii-chan's numerous complaints from inside the house. I never look at one spot too long, always spinning in circles, watching for any hints as to where the youkai might've stopped or will be heading.

Apparently, I wasn't looking well enough, because next thing I know, I'm semi-lying on the ground, holding my breath as claws flash in front of my face, the only thing that's in the air. There's a weight on my back, so whoever it is, they've got me good. "Shit," I mutter, trying to feel around for any knives near my back, where the youkai's held my hands together. But it's of no use, and it gets me ticked. I would scream at the demon, but one wouldn't necessarily want to risk anything with a few sharp nails in front of their throat.

"Who do ya work for?" a rough, teenage voice demands from behind me. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, but don't respond. A growl emits in what must be the guy's throat, because he warns, "Wench…"

_Wench, _my mind automatically thinks, remembering how people in medieval times used that term. _This guy must be from the feudal era. Maybe he knows the half-demon? _"I work alone," I say sternly, wrenching away from the claws. I fail, though, when his nails decide to tap themselves against my skin, as if just taunting me to get myself cut. I huff, "Dude, I was serious. I don't work for any demon slayer corporation."

It's silent for a moment, then I hear some sniffs behind me. "You're not lying," he says at last. "But then why the fuck are ya here, bitch?"

_Bitch? _I about turn around break the idiot's neck for that one. "I'm the kannushi's granddaughter," I explain hastily. "Family's a virtue, you know."

I feel eyes bore into my back, probably probing for silent answers. I hold my breath again, this time, feeling some spiritual power soar through me. And, just like that, the weight's off my back, and I'm able to dig out some anklet daggers. I whip around, ready to face off my captor. "All right, you—"

I can't finish my sentence; I just can't. What I see before me is a guy my age with a blood-red, Feudal Japan hunting get-up, complete with hakama and two layers of shirts—both of which, by the way, are tied around his waist. He has tanned skin, bare feet, a good build, and sharp claws as mentioned before. This youkai has a handsome face adorned with two jagged, magenta marks and black lines under his eyes, which are scorching amber with flashing red sclera, glaring at me mistrustfully. His fangs are bared when he snarls, and despite all this, his most defining trait is a thick mane of white hair topped off with two triangular animal ears, both of which represent a dog's.

_Ah, an_ _inugami—I think. _I mentally nod at the discovery as he continues to growl, threatening me with his claws. "You were sayin', wench?"

I blink, realizing the predicament we're in. For some reason, I have the feeling this guy is someone I shouldn't kill instantly, so I stall. "You know why I'm here," I say, glimpsing at my knife. "But why are _you_ here?"

A rumble erupts through the air again. I raise an eyebrow at that, and he snaps, "Bitch, I _live _here! Now, _how_ can ya see me?"

I perk up in realization. _Is this the hanyou in the story of the Shikon no Tama? _It doesn't make sense. If he's a hanyou, he should have half the aura of a demon, not a full one and more. "I'm a reibai, youkaihanta, and somewhat of a taijiya," I tell him, still staring at his face curiously. I didn't think a demon could be so handsome. Who knew?

_"__Somewhat?" _he snarls, cracking his knuckles before running at me. "YOU LIAR!"

"Fuck," I curse as I sidestep him, but not before getting slashed at on the side of my stomach. It cuts through my shirt and skin, but the bleeding's not bad enough to pass out. I glare at him as he tries to come at me again. I grab normal knives, and without a second thought, stab his stomach and favorite offensive arm. "Hey, dumbass, I'm not a threat!" Then, after I put my weapons away, I add softly, "Even though I stabbed you."

He gasps quietly at the wound, probably not expecting it as he gets pushed back a little. He glowers my way before lunging at me again. I inwardly groan. "YEAH, RIGHT!" I dodge the blow from his hurt arm, which he's still trying to attack me with. "She sent you here, didn't she?"

"What're you talking about?" I question, still jumping away from him. He just grunts as he keeps lashing out at me, and finally annoyed, I grab his injured arm and let a spark of spiritual power get to him.

He gets knocked onto his back, and surprisingly, his appearance changes. His flashing red eyes disappear along with their black lines, but the magenta streaks stay. He gazes up at me with guarded eyes, but when I ask, "Are you the hanyou from the story of the Shikon no Tama?" he seems to soften a little. A sly smirk plays at his lips as he bitterly laughs, "Keh, I didn't think the old geezer would believe in shit like that."

I frown. He's kind of avoiding the question, but I've gathered enough evidence. "Why do you have the aura of a full-demon when you're only half, then?" I press, ignoring the way his muscles tense.

Of course, that's sort of hard to overlook when he screams, "I'LL KILL YOU!" and he swipes his good arm at you, markings now completely back as his eyes glow a bloody color.

As I dodge his attacks again, I wonder what this guy's story is. What happened to him? If he is the hanyou from the fairytale, then why is he a spirit? I can tell by the way his feet kind of dip through the cement that he's not alive. But what about his body? Didn't Jii-chan say that it was absorbed by the tree or something?

WHY IS THIS GUY SO BIPOLAR?

I do a growl of my own, imitating him and catching him off guard enough to chop at his neck. Luckily, I hit his pressure point; he goes down to the ground like a rock obeying the laws of gravity. I sigh, tired, and slump beside him. He's out cold—his eyes are closed, his muscles fallen limp, and when I press a hand over his bare chest, I can tell his heart's beating slow, as if alive and asleep. And in case you were wondering, yes, ghosts can get physically harmed from things that can touch them—though I'd thought I'd made that clear before—and some ghosts can sleep and have a heartbeat.

Or so I've heard. I'd never met one who could sleep or pump blood before.

_Okay, _I think to myself, looking over the places where I'd stabbed him. _Now, do half-youkai have human or demon healing processes? _I blink before slapping my forehead, realizing I should've thought that over before taking the initiative to stab him twice. I really wish I'd known half-demons existed, I really do. Which reminds me, why doesn't this guy have a hanyou aura again?

"SOUTA!" I yell to the teen, my mind hurting from all this already. It's going against everything I know. Maybe when this guy wakes up, he can enlighten me as to what's going on…? Meh, maybe I should find some way to get him on my side first. He doesn't seem all that eager to cooperate.

My brother runs out of the house like it's on fire, then stops when he sees me. His gray eyes widen as he takes in my bleeding torso. "Sis, you're—"

"Just shut up and help me out," I grunt as I place Hanyou-san's good arm around my shoulders. I slip an arm around his waist and Souta follows orders by picking up my dropped weapons and going to the shed to find a mop…I think.

I stumble up to the front door and shove it open. Tsuyu's head snaps my way while Jii-chan's back is to me, ignoring Tsuyu's sudden interest in something else besides his probably crappy chronicle. I swear, he gets so caught up in stories that he wouldn't even notice if World War III began. My cousin gives a curious look before her eyes light with fret upon spotting my wound. I just smile and shrug it off, though, mentally telling her not to worry about it. But then she notices how my arm is wrapped around something invisible and asks aloud, "Kagome…?"

Damn it, Tsuyu. "Yo, Jii-chan!" I shout as to ignore her question. Since Jii-chan never whips around to look at anything, he just raises his head in acknowledgment. For a distraction, I yip, "Did Tsuyu tell you? She's quitting her job at the office and is going out whoring with some friends!" I don't stick around long to see their faces, but I do hear Jii-chan scolding her and freaking out as if World War III _was _happening.

Tch. Silly old coot.

I trip up the stairs multiple times, accidentally dropping dog-boy in the process—we can't let him sink through the stairs, can we?—but I finally manage to make it up to what I'd been told would be my bedroom. I grimace at the sight before me—I liked pink five _years_ ago!—but overlook it to focus on the bleeding hanyou leaning onto me. I wonder where I should put him before I decide I don't care and toss him onto my sheet-less bed, making sure he doesn't sink through by tying one of my bracelets around his wrist. I leave the room for a quick moment to enter the hallway bathroom, removing a first aid kit amongst other things. When I get back, I feel as giddy as a schoolgirl—

Well, you know what I mean.

I get to play doctor; it's exciting. After treating myself and spraying, rubbing, and pouring some antibiotics and salves on his stomach and arm stabbings—_hehe,_ my bad—I wrap them around with gauze. All the meanwhile, I feel my self-esteem boost by helping another person and feel smart for knowing what to do in a situation like this. Once he's bandaged up, I take the necessary precautions to avoid him attacking me: place spiritual barriers on towels and around bed, then wrap towels to Hanyou-san's hands and bed posts.

The idiot better not break my bed, or he'll pay.

I pull up my office chair and place it right beside the bed before plopping down. I watch the attractive, strange, mysterious inu-hanyou lie motionless on my mattress, oblivious to all of his surroundings. He looks peaceful when asleep, as if there's no evil in the world, similar to an innocent child.

Too bad there _is _evil in the world, he's a teenager around my age, and so far, he's shown me that he's anything _but _peaceful and other good things, such as caring and gentlemanly.

_Why did you bring him here, anyways? _I ask myself, resting my head on the chair's back as I watch him. The question catches me off guard. Why _did_ I? _You don't know._

Maybe it's because I want to hear more of the Shikon no Tama story. Perhaps it's due to his weirdness; I've never really met a ghost like him before, much less a half-demon. It could be because of my curiosity towards finding out more about all this. Who did he think I worked for? Why was his appearance changing? All I know is that I've always killed demons who'd attacked me right on the spot, and yet I didn't do it with this guy. Then again, his youki overruled his jyaki by a landslide; I think maybe the only reason he was trying to kill me was because he was being possessed or something. Was that what the marks were for? He seemed to act much more violent with those magenta marks on than he did a simple face.

I glance at him again, noting that he looks like your average boy, minus the fangs, claws, dog ears, honey-filled eyes, and long, white hair. For some reason, I think staring the crap out of him might give me answers, because that's exactly what I do. I create bad-butt interrogation scenes in my mind until I notice he's beading sweat. Without thinking, I begin to unwrap a towel, and then remembering its purpose, rewrap it. I'm about to run off the bathroom when I recall using up all the towels and sit back down.

_Kami, of all things—!_

I exhale irately before pulling off my shirt. Eh, it's not like I care if he sees my bra-covered chest or not anyways. I wipe away the dampness on his forehead, furrowing my eyebrows at how his forehead's heating up. Can hanyou get sick? I shrug, not wanting to deal with it before setting my gaze on the full moon outside. Why is that whenever you read a story, the character just so happens to be looking at a full moon, or have no moon whatsoever? Is it some screwed-up part of symbolism, or am I just noticing things? Because I thought it was kind of weird, but—

You know what? I think I'll just go to sleep now.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

This miko doesn't know how it happened, but she somehow fell out of her office chair, stumbled into the bed, hung her head off said bed, and didn't give a damn about who was on it. Well, said miko forgot that there _was _another person on that bed, and when said miko woke up, she was surprised to see said person did not look happy to be in a room full of pink, lying on a bed with a shirtless girl's legs on top of him while the shirtless girl's shirt is on his face and her feet are on his bare chest.

Really. I'm glad I'm the only one able to see ghosts around here.

When I wake up, that's how I find us. The boy's eye is twitching despite his eyes' abnormal size, and he looks beyond confused. I rub the sleep from my own eyes, mumble an unintelligible "good morning" before closing my eyes again.

_Eyes, eyes, eyes…_

Then I jerk up when I realize I'm topless.

"Gimme that," I grumble, swiping the shirt from the traumatized hanyou's head. I put it back on before yawning and leaning against my wall. He's still looking at me weird, and then I remember— "Did your wounds heal?"

He blinks, amber irises tired, before glancing down at his bare chest and arm. He asks groggily, "What happened?"

I flinch in annoyance. "You don't remember…?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I saw you walk into the shrine with that old geezer— Wait, who _are _you?" he asks, suddenly alert.

I roll my eyes. "Well, Hanyou-san, sir, I am the woman who you decided to randomly attack last night, and when she offered peace, you shot her down like a raccoon dog." He raises an eyebrow, and I sigh, exhausted. "You slice at me, I stab you, bud. Then you got knocked out by _me._" Tie? I think not. I shall reign champ. It's already been determined.

He rubs his temples. "Last night was the full moon, wasn't it?" I nod suspiciously. "I never remember things from those nights."

"How come?" I ask curiously.

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW?" he snaps, though more out of stress than bloodlust—I think.

I shrug. "At least you didn't fake being rude last night—" After his glare, I decide it's maybe smart to tell him the entire story. Thus I do, and he falls silent.

"Oh."

"OH?" I echo incredulously. "Dude, you tried to _kill _me!That's not cool on _so_ many levels!"

"SO?" he yells back, eyeing me down. It fails, to say the least. Then he huffs, and tries to sit up, but my restraints work, much to his disappointment. "What the fuck?"

"Language," I warn. The _F _word crosses the line, people, and this half-demon is no exception to my life rules—though I myself am. "Now, will you promise not to kill me?"

"I _promise_," he says, and even though he doesn't sound like he means it, I untie him anyways. He jumps off the bed, then looks for an exit. Since I know I'm going to see him later—he _did _say he lived here—I open up the window for him. He shoots me a doubtful look that I shrug at, and without a goodbye or anything else, he jumps out onto the shrine grounds, landing gracefully like a youkai should. Then he runs until he hits Goshinboku, where he climbs to the top before jumping into the neighbor's yard.

To be more specific, the ghost kitsune's home.

Gods, talk about a yuurei-hanyou who needs a big pack of Midol.


	3. The Kitsune Next Door

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Yougisha_ –honorific for a criminal suspect  
_Jukeisha_ – honorific for a convict/offender  
_Reibai_ – spirit medium, "ghost-whisperer"_  
Youkaihanta_ – ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Zashiki-warashi_ – child ghosts; not a threat  
_Ningen_ – human being, mortal  
_Gekkahyoujin_ – matchmaker, cupid

**Things  
**_Youki_ – typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Jyaki_ – wicked demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Goshinboku_ – sacred tree found on shrine grounds  
_Hakama_ – traditional Japanese pants bloused at the ankles (Inu's red pants)  
_Suikan_ – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**3: The Kitsune Next-Door**_

* * *

_"__An autobiography is the story of  
how a man thinks he lived."_

—Herbert Samuel

* * *

Okay, this is probably the weirdest thing I've encountered: a bipolar yuurei-inu-hanyou beating the crap out of a young yuurei-kitsune.

By gods, kill me now.

I watch from the entrance of the now-abandoned house as the two ghosts carry on, yelling and swiping at each other. Or, more like it, the kitsune crying out in pain as the hanyou completely wails on him. Obviously, these youkai aren't a threat; if they were, I would've already sent their asses back to one of the eight hells. Besides what occurred last night, I sense no jyaki; these guys are purely youki—and only demons with jyaki get their asses kicked.

Speaking of which, why did I let the hanyou survive again?

"I SWEAR!" the fox demon bawls. "I DIDN'T EVEN SEE HER COME BY, I DIDN'T!"

"Keh, you stupid whelp," the guy mutters, picking him up by his tail. "I told you if a hunter or miko or_ anything _of any sort of suspicious behavior went by _your _house, you should fuckin' _tell_ me!"

Apparently, these two are acquainted with each other. Yes, I noticed it before, but now, I have obvious proof. For a moment, I wonder why this guy wants warnings for when supernatural beings are nearing the shrine. But I shrug it off when he growls, "DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING WEIRD IT IS TO WAKE UP BESIDE A STUPID BITCH MIKO WHO HASN'T EVER HEARD OF FUCKING _PERSONAL SPACE_?"

Ouch. Well… That wasn't nice at all.

Despite my better judgment, I feel my anger fume as the kitsune struggles in the guy's grasp. Then said hanyou collapses and begins choking.

On air.

Now, I know I'm just a demon slayer, ghost whisperer, and matchmaker, but I'm pretty sure that is extremely out of the norm. It's probably even weirder that he's holding his neck as if he really _is_ choking.

"Can't stand cinnamon, can you?" the fox _tsks, _shaking his head.

The hanyou's helpless as he continues choking. The doctor in me automatically comes out as I rush over to him, all traces of anger gone. Remembering the first step to CPR, I ask, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Or is that the Heimlich maneuver? Or am I supposed to do that if they aren't staring at me, making it obvious that they're conscious? Jeez, I wanna be a doctor, not a freakin' ER helper—I wouldn't know.

I think from the way his golden orbs stab me, he's fine now. I snap, "You idiot! You were faking it, weren't you?"

"NO!" he yells, and for some reason, I have the strongest urge to roll my eyes. "I'm allergic to cinnamon!"

"Where _is _the cinnamon?" I demand.

"_You're _the cinnamon!"

I blink. Then my eyebrows furrow. "What?"

"Everyone has distinct scents depending on what mood they're in," he huffs, swiping off imaginary dust on his hakama. "When you're pissed, yours is cinnamon. I'm _allergic _to cinnamon."

"Then don't get me pissed," I conclude smartly. "And stop beating the crap out of this poor child!" Seeing me now as his ally, said youkai races over to me, cowering behind my legs as he literally glues onto me.

Oh, great. Now I have an admirer.

"Please don't let him kill me!" the kitsune implores, his grasp tightening on my leg. I think he doesn't realize how much his demon hold on my human leg hurts, but I ignore the pain—something I've grown quite used to.

"Keh, I've never killed ya before, and I ain't startin' now," the hanyou insists, but doesn't step toward us. What? Is he _afraid _of me now?

I pay attention to the child with a death grip. "My name's Kagome. What's yours?"

"Shippou," he whimpers.

"And how did you die?"

"I haven't."

Oh, it's a kid in denial. Probably a zashiki-warashi. "You haven't?" I echo, acting stunned. He confirms with a nod of his head. "Then why are you a spirit? How did you get here?"

The hanyou huffs, clearly pissed that he's being ignored, but Shippou overlooks him. That's when I notice that not only is the hanyou in Feudal Japan garb, but so is the kitsune. Shippou begins, "I was, um…_real _back in the period of time that humans call the Warring States era. I didn't know my mother all that well, but my father taught me all he knew about fox magic and fire. I remember, during one of my training sessions, two greedy demons of the area came across us. They were called the Thunder Brothers, Hiten and Manten. Having the powers of lightning and thunder, they killed my father and took him as a pelt. I managed to get away with many scars, but I went back for more, planning to avenge my father's death." At this, his pained gaze begins focusing on the ground. "I don't know how it happened, but I do know that I didn't stand a chance, that they chopped off every part of my body except for vital organs and my head. I was unconscious from there on out, just a spirit watching my body recover."

"Where's your body now?" I ask, crouching down to his level. He loosens his grip on my leg only to tackle my torso with his arms. Great.

"I stayed in the forest for a while, and it takes a long time for kid youkai to recover from injuries like that," he tells me, probably in the process of answering my question, "so I wasn't gonna get better anytime soon. But then Kikyou and Inuyasha—"

"Kikyou and Inuyasha?" I question as the hanyou stiffens.

"Yeah!" Shippou says excitedly. "Inuyasha's right there, and Kikyou—"

"Died," the hanyou, or Inuyasha, states. "She's dead, so drop it, you fucking runt."

"Language," I hiss. Besides, they're all dead—except Shippou, apparently, and possibly Inuyasha. Then, realizing how uncomfortable the hanyou is with the topic of this _Kikyou_, I murmur, "So, who's Kikyou, _Inuyasha_?"

"None of your fucking business!" Inuyasha snaps at the same time Shippou cheers, "She was a miko, and she and Inuyasha were—"

_Thump. _I'm guessing it's hanyou speed that's got Inuyasha right behind me, banging his fist against Shippou's head, cutting him off. "HEY, ASSHOLE!" I yell, pushing him away from the little kid. I scoop the abused child into my arms, narrowing my eyes at the hanyou. Inuyasha just huffs before tucking his arms into his suikan, which he's put back on, and plopping down on the ground. I turn to the panicked kitsune in my arms and manage a smile. "So, continue your story. What did Inuyasha and Kikyou do?"

"They were travelling together when they found my body. They took me back to their village and made sure I was safe," Shippou informs me. That's when it hits me: the old man, Jii-chan, never talked about the miko and hanyou knowing each other personally. But they must've been friends or something if they were traveling _together_. It would also explain why Inuyasha doesn't like talking about her; she _did _pin him to a tree, after all. Shippou goes on, "Of course, by then I was just following my body around. Inuyasha and Kikyou didn't know about my spirit until they died themselves, though." I wonder how that happened, and where Kikyou is now if she's, too, a spirit. "They didn't think I'd make it, but my body's still here, so—"

"Where?" I ask again, suddenly curious of this entire situation. Possible out-of-body experiences are really interesting, especially when they involve youkai.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Inuyasha growls, automatically back up on his legs. He still doesn't approach me, though, as if he thinks I really _will_ harm him. I guess he hasn't caught on that I've not made any attempts at killing him—just knocking him out and drawing blood.

Those are big differences, right?

I frown. "I wanna help Shippou out. What's your problem?"

"YOU'RE GONNA PURIFY OUR ASSES AT ANY MOMENT!" he yells, taking what must be an unconscious step towards us. I smirk inwardly as I find a solution to make them trust me—because they should, gods-dammit. I play dumb and give him a confused look. He growls, "You're a fuckin' miko, and they ain't ever gonna do anything good for us demons!"

"Half-demon," I correct nonchalantly. "You are a _half_-demon."

He steps closer, and I can see my imaginary smile grow wider. "Miko are fuckin' annoying, and they're fuckin' traitors. They can't be trusted, so let the whelp go before you kill him like you've done other demons! At that, you're gonna force us to move on when we're not even dead!"

Oh, so he _isn't _dead? Great to know. Really. But I need to get this kid's body to a better place, since yuurei—or I guess disembodied souls, in this case—can't touch physical objects so easily unless the "objects" are people who can see them.

Also, this guy is very opinionated. It's really getting on my nerves. I say, "Yeah, I'm a miko. Yes, I exterminate demons and help ghosts move on. And you're right when you say I can purify you and force you into the next world. But I'm not doing any of that, am I? I can sense whether supernatural beings like yuurei and youkai are evil, and besides when you had your little episode last night, I sensed no jyaki—only good ol' youki. And even when you were _whatever _last night, I still didn't kill you 'cause I believed I shouldn't, that you were really a good guy who was possessed or something. Right now, I wanna see this kid's body's condition before I move it to a healthier place and see if my medical expertise can help him some. But since you're so bent out on being a complete _asshole_, I don't have to help at all. Doesn't mean I'll kill you guys, though, really, you big moron."

That was the longest speech I've ever given. Wow.

Inuyasha seems taken aback some, because he sits down on the floor with a serious face, all the while holding his breath to probably block out my angered cinnamon scent.

Then Shippou announces, "You just got _pwned._"

Well.

I can't help laughing after hearing _that_. Between my giggles, I ask, "How do you even _know _that term, Shippou?"

His face suddenly drops. "Some of the people who lived here said it."

I hate his pained expression. I suggest, "Tell me where your body is. We'll talk on the way there." Shippou nods, and informs me that it's in the basement. As I begin walking, I question, "Why did those people seem so panicked yesterday?"

His eyes glue themselves to the creaking floor. "I…I played with them." I tilt my head to the side, showing I don't understand as I scan the slightly ajar doors for one that has stairs leading downwards. He further explains, "I'm a fox demon, so I typically like to use my fox powers for tricks and such. But they didn't like my tricks."

Oh, so even though the people can't see him, they can still see his fox magic. His voice had hit a lower octave, though, so I try to brighten him up. "Well, they just couldn't see you, Ship." He perks at the new nickname, so I know I've at least got him feeling a little better. "They thought you were a bad guy; they were the ones who were clueless that you just wanted some friends." I smile, and he returns it. Then I notice the footsteps behind us, and mutter, "Speaking of which…" I turn to Inuyasha, who stops abruptly when he notices that I've realized he was following us. "You're his friend, aren't you? If so, why don't _you_ play with him?"

"Keh" is the only answer I get. Shippou rolls his eyes, and whispers in my ear that Inuyasha's too busy sleeping his days away to pay attention to even attractive girls passing by the shrine. I smirk at that, and Inuyasha growls, probably overhearing with those dog ears of his. He says, "I may sleep a ton, but that ain't the reason why we don't 'play'." I raise an eyebrow before I continue scanning doors. "I…know…play…him…"

"Hm?" I hum, peaking through the cracks. "I couldn't hear you, Inuyasha."

"I don't know…play…"

"What?"

"I don't know how to _play_ with him, okay?" he snaps, and I actually stop in my tracks because I'm so surprised. That's _really_ why he won't play with this poor kid? Because he didn't even have the decency to ask Shippou, "Hey, kid, what would you like to do today?" Apparently, not only is the hanyou bipolar, but also incredibly stupid.

Not that I didn't catch on to that before.

I just shake my head as I spot the stairwell. Even though it looks unsafe, I shrug, set down Shippou, and tell him to wait there. Then I take the first step, only wincing slightly when I hear an old wood panel crack. Oh, well; no turning back now! I shrug lightly again, then take another step.

And that's when the entire wooden piece breaks and I fall through.

Or, I should've, but clawed hands grip my outstretched arms before that happens.

I look up and see Inuyasha's furious expression. "You stupid wench," he snaps. "You tryin' to commit suicide, or are you onto somethin'?"

"If I was _onto something_," I jeer, "you'd be dead for real. Now, let me fall. I gotta get Shippou's body."

"You really are stupid," he huffs. "It's been fine for five centuries. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to it."

"You suck at grammar," I comment. "But haven't you realized that if he's been healing for _five effin' centuries_, that _something's _wrong? Full-youkai can heal from stab wounds in a few hours. Even if Shippou was damaged as much as he was, he should've healed within a decade or two. Now, let me go so I can go check on his body."

Inuyasha's face twists up. "No."

_"Inuyasha," _I hiss, making sure his name comes out smooth. "His body could have infections, diseases, other damages. As an inspiring doctor, I need to go check them out. It'll be best for him."

He stares at me for a moment before sighing. "You're insane."

I get a little irritated, though it must not be enough to make me smell like cinnamon and knock Inuyasha out. "And _you're _disobedient!" I snap. "Aren't dogs supposed to _obey _their owners?"

"DOG?" he nearly screeches. "Bitch, I'm a fuckin' _inu-youkai!_"

"Hanyou," I cough in correction. He growls in his chest, and lets me go. Luckily, my arms stop me from falling completely.

His irritation's evident in his voice, though his sincere concern clouds it. "Just don't do anything to hurt him, okay?" he whispers.

Says the man with a violent fist. I roll my eyes, but comply anyways as I pull myself out of the broken step and stand back up again. I cautiously avoid any weak panels before I reach the fifth—

And fall again. Luckily, I don't fall through, but hit my head on another step.

Then I black out, because that's just my luck.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

I should probably explain the whole thing about yuurei, reibai, and items ghosts normally can't touch unless they train themselves to—which the training is so shockingly painful, many choose not to go through with it. Anyways, when a ghost whisperer such as myself—or some powerful spiritual beings, taijiya, and psychics—place an un-ghostly object on a ghost, one that they can touch at all times, such as a bracelet, they are then able to touch some real objects, like floors, walls, tables, beds, chairs, and other surfaces. They can also touch small things like paper, buttons, and anything less remotely light; they can even grab a bracelet and place it on another ghost so that they can have the same abilities they now do. However, they cannot even _think_ about carrying objects higher than twenty pounds, like heavy books or normal people.

Which is why I'm not surprised when I wake up in my room and see Inuyasha sitting on my windowsill, reading a little green book, whispering something, while Shippou lies down next to me, staring at me straight in the face. "Good morning!" he cheers, causing Inuyasha to look up from the book. Then after we make eye-contact, the bipolar hanyou turns back to the book, which kind of looks familiar, but through my groggy mind, I can't recognize. "Do you feel better?"

"I felt bad?" I ask, sitting up and stretching before I feel a twinge in my temple. Oh, right— I hit my head. Gods, that hurts like a bitch. "Ow," I murmur. "So, I apparently went unconscious?" Shippou nods._ "Great."_ Then, less sarcastically and more remorseful, I sigh, "I'm sorry, Ship." He still beams at the nickname. "I'll try to get your body later, okay?"

"But I don't wanna get you hurt!" he insists, popping onto my lap. It makes my face break out into a grin. "Really, 'Gome"—hooray, I have a nickname, too—"just let Doctor Shippou do his work."

I laugh. "I'm the one wanting to go into medical school, you whacked-up fox." He sticks out his tongue at me, and I smirk before my eyes land on the book in Inuyasha's hands. Then I feel kind of panicky. "Why are you reading that?" I question.

He shrugs coolly. "I got bored."

"But why must you read my journal?" I query once more. It's that book I've used to write the recordings of my supernatural (and natural) activities ever since I finally realized just what I could do. It even has an entry where I go on about Kotatsu Jukeisha, and where I had to move because I'm now a yougisha—not to mention my talk with Yue-Laou, which I was lucky enough to write about before we reached the shrine. I reach out for it, but he narrowly avoids letting go. "Hey, asshole! Not cool!"

He ignores my yells as his whispering, which I've now realized was him reading to Shippou, stops. He says, "Hope you know that we've deemed you as a good guy."

"No, I did, but you said you needed evidence, thus you read her—" Inuyasha bonks Shippou on the head before he can continue, and just mutters _"__evidence"_.

Weirdoes. "Well, it's so great you know about my entire life story," I sing, even though I really want to strangle him for reading something so private. Hecks, I wasn't even able to write about what's happened since I arrived at the shrine. "Now—"

"You really do wanna help people, don't you?" Inuyasha asks, and I sigh before nodding my head. Then I reach out for it again, only to whimper when he pulls it away. "Why?"

"I made a promise," I murmur, happy that I didn't write about the car accident in there.

"How are you able to see ghosts and red strings?" Shippou asks, confirming my statement that they know a lot about me. I tell him I had a near-death experience, and that I was, for some reason, chosen to be this century's matchmaker by the old, supposed-folktale character Yue-Laou himself. Shippou just listens intently on my lap, and when I'm done, he exhales. "Wow, you're really busy a lot, aren't you?"

"Sadly," I sigh depressingly. "Between hunting down evil youkai, yuurei-gone-bad, and bringing soul mates together, I don't know how I have enough time for work and school." Shippou then gives me a blank look at the words _work _and _school_, so I have to explain to him how this century's society is compared to his own.

I don't know how long we're in my room, but we talk about the differences between now and the feudal era, me being the first to truly educate them on the modern-day world since I am apparently the only miko, taijiya, reibai, youkaihanta, gekkahyoujin, schoolgirl, and aspiring doctor they've ever met.

Have I mentioned how many titles I have? Just wondering.

I learn a little bit about them, but not a lot. It was around lunchtime when I woke up, and now it's hitting three o'clock. My stomach growls, and I groan at my foodlessness. Luckily, around that time, Souta and Tsuyu come to pay me a visit.

Oh, joy.

"Kagome!" Tsuyu calls at the same time Souta shouts, "Nee-chan!" They both step into the room, unaware of my visitors, and Tsuyu hugs me tight. "Where were you?" she asks. "I walked into your room to tell you about breakfast, but you weren't there, and when I came back to bring you down to lunch, you were asleep."

I glance at Inuyasha and Shippou and decide it won't matter if she knows about them. I ignore Inuyasha's growls as I explain, "If you didn't notice, I was attacked last night, but he turned out to be under some sort of spell, so I took him up to my room to heal. Then he escaped, so I followed him next door, and _blah, blah, blah, _I'm doing my job and was just talking with my newfound friends about my job and suckish life."

Tsuyu just nods. She doesn't question my strangeness anymore. "Well, dinner will be ready soon, and once that's done, I'll be heading back to Kyoto. Oji-chan has your and Souta's school things—uniforms, supplies—downstairs, so you'll be attending your new schools tomorrow."

I repeat: Oh, joy. Gosh, I hate Sundays—which is today. Just so you know.

"I'm helping Jii-chan with some boxes," Souta tells me, "but he needs some things dusted. We need someone to dust, and if your, uh, ghost-demon friends don't mind…"

"All right," I say, getting up. I turn back to the said youkai (and hanyou), and point a watchful finger at them. "Stay on the shrine grounds," I tell them. "Ship, when I'm done, we'll be looking for your body again."

"Ship?" Souta questions as Tsuyu gasps, "Body?"

Great. She thinks I'm discussing murder. "No, no," I stumble. "These two are having out-of-body experiences. That means their bodies are inaccessible right now, so their souls are just wandering around _as _their bodies until they can actually return to their original—"

After seeing everyone's blank looks, I just stop. There's not much left to say when _everybody_ doesn't understand what you're saying.

I leave and do whatever it is that Jii-chan wants, eating sometimes while working my butt off. We still haven't heard from Tenseiga Hospital about my possible job as a nurse, but that isn't always a bad thing. I look through my school info, reading about my homeroom and things before glancing at the slutty green and white outfit. I decide it would be best to avoid it until I'm forced to wear the thing, so I keep my distance as I clean the house, which Jii-chan probably hasn't done in all of his four lifetimes. (Because that's how old he is; I'm sure of it. You have to be _really_ old to be senile, so…)

After taking a shower, I return to my room only to find the idiot and kid are long gone, which was expected if the hanyou was around; it's evident the guy's rebellious and a total butthole. Their auras have faded, which means they left awhile back and not recently—which means who knows what they're up to. I pop my head out the window and stare at Goshinboku, where a familiar red and white figure sleeps on one of the higher-up branches. If Inuyasha's relaxing—probably asleep—then Shippou must've gone back to that one house to keep an eye on his body. I sigh, realizing they really don't want me to go back to find his body again. But why? Why can't I just do my job without any interruptions?

I sigh again—it's a habit—and begin removing all of my weapons, placing them inside drawers of my desk. For extra protection, I label the drawers _Female Products. _I don't think any man would have the nerve to check in them after reading that. I tuck my journal—my mistreated, violated journal—into my mattress after writing about all that's happened in my life since the last entry. Then, after some more preparations for getting ready for bed, I _go _to bed, which is kind of essential after you're done getting ready for bed (again).

I close my eyes and let the now-lessening full moon shine through my window freely. Hopefully, tomorrow won't be as busy as the last few days have been. But _no_, it's obvious things can never go my way. Because I have a gut feeling that only more crap will occur on my first day of school. With any luck, my brain won't explode by nightfall.

* * *

**A/N: **Shippou enters from right stage…and I edited this and the last two chapters in March of 2011… *drum roll*


	4. Tokyo Trouble

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **I'm coming to steadily regret taking out my original A/Ns from these now edited chapters—but whatever. I wanted a somewhat accurate word count, and my A/Ns aren't part of the story—but they used to be extremely long. Trust me when I say this is for the best. *sniffs, walks away*

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Yougisha_ – honorific for a criminal suspect  
_Jukeisha_ – honorific for a convict/offender  
_Keibu_ – honorific for a police inspector/captain  
_Houshi_ – most often a Buddhist priest or monk  
_Reibai_ – spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"_  
Youkaihanta_ – ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Ningen_ – human being, mortal

**Things  
**_Youki_ – typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Jyaki_ – wicked demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Suikan Kamishimo _– outfit composed of matching _hakama _and _suikan _(Inu's red clothes)

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**4: Tokyo Trouble**_

* * *

_"Life is like a grapefruit. It's orange and squishy,  
and has a few pips in it, and  
some folks have half a one for breakfast."_

—Douglas Adams

* * *

I dislike mornings strongly. People such as myself—people who have _supernatural _occupations—were born to be nocturnal, I'm sure of it. Most of my work occurs at night, so I'm used to sleeping in to around noon or the early afternoon. This is the reason for me chucking my hidden knife at my brother on accident when he gives me a rude awakening. (Hey, don't judge _me_, despite my weirdness stating otherwise.) At least Souta, the little pea-for-a-brain, was smart enough to run off as soon as he yelled, "GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE!"

I groan, forcing myself to get up and retrieve the knife from the door before sticking it back on the Velcro hidden on my bedpost. I'm sure Jii-chan won't notice the deep indentation in the door, but if he suddenly grows brains and gets curious, I'm screwed. I'll probably have to come up with a reasonable explanation, though it's not hard to convince a demon-believing, senile senior citizen that you thought there was a youkai trying to attack you in your weak state of slumber in the first place.

I rub the sleep from my eyes, trying to will myself to erase all traces of weariness. After forcing a brush through my unruly hair and changing into my green and white uniform, I quickly scarf down a satisfying piece of bread before grabbing my yellow backpack, which had been prepared the night prior. I snap my fingers at Souta, demanding that he hurry, and call out to the old coot, "JII-CHAN! We're leaving for school!" Because, as always, I have the duty of dropping Souta off at middle school for seventh grade before I head to high school for twelfth grade.

Souta quickly points to the knife set in the kitchen, silently asking if I have any weapons. I scoff. As if I wouldn't. I lift up my loose-fit shirt to reveal my hidden waist-guns, then show him the thin sword against my spine. I reveal my arms from the shirt sleeves, where some containers and packets of chalk, purification dust, grave soil, and holy water have been wrapped on. Then I move my knee-length, baggy socks to expose pocketknives—everything being purified or easily having the ability to kill any youkai or evil spirits we come across.

The thirteen-year-old nods, letting out a sigh of relief. Unlike Tsuyu who disapproves of my weapons, Souta has deeply encouraged them ever since his friend Taru was attacked by demon on his walk home from school. I'm guess I'm somewhat of a protector in my little brother's eyes ever since I took a few hits from and killed the demon that'd injured his friend. Not that I mind the gender roles being switched—men are "supposed" to protect the women, after all—but I do think it'd be somewhat nice to have an assistant or someone to help _me _every once in a while.

Not that I would ever confess that to anyone, since I myself am now denying ever letting that thought enter my mind.

We exit the house, and my gaze automatically drifts to Goshinboku. Inuyasha is sleeping away on that tree, the lucky dog (no pun intended). I have the urge to wake him up, just to wipe away my envy, by wrangling his neck or stabbing him repeatedly—hey, he'd heal just fine!—yet I decide better of it. When Souta follows my line of sight and doesn't see anything in the tree, he gives me a confused look. I explain soft and curtly, "One of my friends from last night." If I could count this idiot as a friend, that is. Souta nods in understanding, shrinking away once he spots the evil smirk that spreads across my face. Because even though I promised myself not to wake him violently…

"YO, INU_YASHA_!"

And just like that, said sleeping hanyou falls out of the tree and lands face-down on the ground. He grumbles, lifting his face from the earth, "WHAT THE _FUCK_?"

I don't know why we're all yelling this morning, but I'm having fun, that's for sure. "Don't you know it's about time to wake up?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He growls, avoiding the question. Rephrase: "You sleep all day, don't you?" When he grins, I almost grab a weapon right then and there. That bastard. I wish _I _could sleep all the time. "Go do something productive," I huff, crossing my arms.

"Like what?" he snarls before his eyes flicker to my little brother. He looks just as baffled as Souta now.

Oh, yeah. They don't know each other, despite last night. After the introductions, Souta gushes, "_He's _the hanyou from the story?" I nod, and cringe when he gives out a squeal, before I cautiously take a few steps away from his area. _Creepiest teenager anyone will ever come across, _I think with a shake of my head.

Inuyasha's ears flatten to his head, and I almost swoon at the cute sight. It's a good thing Souta can't see Inuyasha, or his yells might've gotten louder at seeing such an adorable-puppy movement. Inuyasha mumbles suspiciously, "Why's _he_ so excited?"

I smile. "Souta heard about your story two nights ago and really enjoyed it." He tilts his head, still not comprehending. I sigh, "He's a fan of good youkai and yuurei, and loves hearing about fairytales coming true. Me meeting one of the demons—whether they be half or not—in the fairytale is exciting for him, and he gets further enthusiastic when the youkai is a good guy." And my, uh…ally? Friend? Eh, he's just _whatever_.

Inuyasha blinks, as if doing a double-take while musing over my little explanation. "Still don't make sense," he mutters, and I roll my eyes. Moving on…

"Now that you're wearing that bracelet"—I point to said object—"you can do a lot of things we humans can, if you haven't noticed. You can touch surfaces, read light books that _aren't _my journal, maybe secretly help out Jii-chan with the shrine, just look through the house—_anything _except lift heavy objects and do evil. You might not want to wander too far from the shrine, either, since there are taijiya and youkaihanta who wouldn't hesitate on ending your existence, even though you're just a soul and a (mostly) good half-demon. You got that?"

"Roger," he says, using the new phrase I taught him and Shippou yesterday. _Tear. _I'm so proud of—

Oh, right! "Also," I murmur, "it wouldn't hurt you to play with Shippou. He needs the company."

Inuyasha's about to snap at me, probably complaining about why I won't do it, when Souta taps my shoulder. He shouts, "Nee-chan, we need to get to school!"

Noticing that we have only ten more minutes to reach our destinations, I realize that yep, we'd better get going. "Bye, Inuyasha," I say with a small wave as Souta and I scuttle off the shrine grounds. Inuyasha gives me a perplexed look—nothing too surprising about that—but I shrug it off as I turn to leave. His somehow-strong demonic aura fades with each step, and when we're a block away, it's completely gone.

Since two nights ago, when I first met him, when he was full-demon—though I don't exactly know why… His aura has faded slightly. It's still stronger than I expected a hanyou's to be, but not as strong as when he was full-youkai, obviously, for not only did he have more demonic power then, but he also had jyaki leaking out from his whole being. Yet, I can't help wondering why he transformed like that, why he couldn't remember meeting me, why his youki is much more powerful than any normal half-demon's probably would be.

Souta and I pass by familiar and unique buildings alike on our way to the schools, which aren't that far away from each other. There's a WacDonald's, various clothing shops, a small bookstore, a fancy European restaurant, a sushi bar, and numerous small businesses. Alleyways cover the gaps in-between the structures, perfect for fighting crime and leaving the bad guy hanging upside-down for the police to catch, though unbeknownst to them, the hero's either busting another bad guy, chilling back at his previous location, or watching from the shadows.

That was my _let's fight crime comic-book–style _side speaking, by the way.

As we pass by the space between the bookstore and antique shop, I feel a faint sense of doom. Traces of jyaki wrap around us, and Souta shivers from its intensity. "What is that?" he wonders aloud, still not familiar with the feeling a demonic aura sends.

"Youkai," I whisper, stopping him with my arm. I motion for him to hide behind a car. It's a place where I can see him, but where a demon wouldn't. Once I'm sure of his safety—which has been confirmed when he runs off without saying goodbye, screaming bloody murder—I pull out one of my guns, steadying it as I prepare to fire. I calmly yet slowly approach the alleyway, hearing small speeches and exclamations as I do so.

"My," a male voice says, sounding smooth while trying to hide pain. "You're quite the feisty one, aren't you?"

I don't even want to question that.

"DIE!" comes a female's totally-cliché, bloodcurdling scream, making me quicken my pace upon recognizing the unique tone. _That's the voice of a demon! _I come into the clearing, see a human in a giant centipede youkai's mouth, and rush over to help. I pull the trigger three times, effectively hitting the demon before it whips the human male from its teeth, letting him bang into one of brick walls, and it turns to me. It sneers, and I smirk back as it approaches full-speed towards me. I'm reaching for the sword on my back when I feel its teeth rip through my side, making the wound Inuyasha made reopen and worsen.

Great. Two times in less than forty hours. Whoopidee-freaking-doo.

Once it's run through the confined area, making a move towards me again, I draw the blade and swipe at its middle, cutting it in half as it passes by. Then, within the blink of an eye, it gasps in pain before sneering at me and lunging so swiftly, it nearly flies through the air as my body hits the floor and it's wavering above me. The youkai hisses, and I manage the ever-so-taunting smirk before it flies at me, skimming down the middle of the alleyway.

Unfortunately for it, the thing forgets I'm still quick as I slide underneath it, making its weapons—its teeth—pass by me unnoticeably before I pull out my blade and let it slice through its middle. Now that I've officially torn it apart, cutting it in half vertically and horizontally, I move out of the way before it falls to the ground and turns into dust. I sigh, walking forth to retrieve my purified sword, avoiding the dented and useless bullets resting beside it.

After sliding the blade back into the sheath wrapped around my torso and in-line with my spine, I approach the man the demon attacked. His indigo eyes glitter flirtatiously, and he has black hair pulled back into a rat's tail, showing his multiple golden earrings. Blood's seeping out of his wounds a little, but he still shoots me a charming smile on his noble, handsome face. I then realize he's not a full-fledged adult like his voice made him seem; he's probably in his late teens, similar to me.

I have the feeling I should dub him as "hot", but sadly, this comes through my mind instead:

_Meh, Inuyasha's hotter._

I mean, _really_. Inuyasha? Attractive? Pff, _please_. Yes, he's physically appealing, but emotionally? I'm not too sure about that one. Besides, "hot" isn't the right label for him. I'd say he looked kind of wild, rough, and striking in a bad-boy sort of way, which, now that I think about it, is my definition of "hot"—

Know what? I will now use the magical powers of naiveté by thinking of other things to get my mind off of the one-of-a-kind hanyou.

The should-be-hot guy I've just met hums, "I'm honored to thank such a great, beautiful miko such as you for killing the youkai Mistress Centipede."

I blink. And blink again. I was going to patch up his wounds and make sure to knock him out so that when he woke up, it'd be like a bad dream—he wouldn't realize that he'd actually been attacked by a demon, especially after I healed his wounds with my spiritual powers. That's what I always do: confuse them, make them think it was all a nightmare. But this guy knows the existence of youkai _and _miko—and now that I've looked harder, I can see his spiritual aura. Though it's weaker than mine, it's there, and that's enough to assure me that he must be in league with a taijiya organization. "I suppose so," I finally say, narrowing my eyes slightly as his hand wanders to a forbidden place. I snatch it before it gets even close and look at him dead in the eye. "What kind of monk feels up his savior?"

"This one," he murmurs with a devious grin. I roll my eyes, deciding he's harmless before dropping him to the ground. He groans when he hits, but still manages to smile. "Houshi Miroku, monk and demon slayer of the Shikon Five," he says suddenly. "But in my personal life, I am Miroku, third-year at Midoriko High School. Now, who might you be?"

_Shikon, _I think, rolling the word over in my mind. _Sounds familiar. _"Higurashi Kagome, miko, reibai, and youkaihanta," I answer, effectively leaving out my ability to see red strings. His thread is shining bright and leading to inside the antique shop, so I know that his soul mate is nearby. And telling him that outright is weird, so I think I'll keep it to myself. "It seems we're classmates."

I let my backpack drop with a thud before pulling out my first aid kit. Miroku insists, "That's not necessary, Lady Kagome. My base is just inside that door. I can be treated there." He points to the antique store, and I nod as a substitute for a goodbye before repacking my things. I get from the floor, ignoring the pain from my injury, and ignore Miroku's calls for me to turn back. Why won't I? It'd suddenly crossed my mind:

I'M GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!

I limp, still shunning the bleeding from my side. I don't know where Souta is; he probably ran off to _his _school, the wimp. Even though I'm fully able to protect him and all that good stuff, my brother is one of _those people_—the ones who will happily get excited when planning to save the world, but when the plan begins and they actually get in the warzone, they instantly turn to Jell-O: just completely freakin' useless. This is why it didn't surprise me in the slightest when I saw him scurry off like Courage the Cowardly Dog.

I just realized how much I miss that show.

I dab at the wound with my shirt, my brain forgetting to remind me that I have gauze in my backpack for injuries such as these. I shuffle through said bag for my schedule, which Jii-chan had given me early. I read what class I will be in, and nearly groan when I see I'm in Class B. _B! _Future doctors are not supposed to be in Class _B_!I'm supposed to be in Class _A_, damn it all!

I crumple the paper before remembering I need other information from it, too. I read it once more before making my way to the _H _section of the lockers. I approach mine, twisting in the combination before giving it a good yank, which was actually hard to do since my other hand was too busy attempting to heal my still-bleeding side. Usually, my spiritual powers kick in and heal my injuries without me trying, but since my side had previously been hurt, it's taking longer than usual—that, _and_ I used some of my spiritual power not too long ago.

Trying to avoid the pain as much as possible while my fingers dig into the harshly-treated skin, I slip my backpack into my locker and let my thoughts wander to Shippou and his body. I wonder about it, since not only is it rare to survive wounds such as his, but to heal for this long. Unless his body was already dying before that and trying to fix that as well, or unless he was still growing, I don't understand why—

It just hit me: Shippou is a little kid. Yes, I knew that before, but when a soul leaves its body, it looks like it did when it left (minus the immense injuries). That meant Shippou was a little kid when he left his body, which means who _knows _if his body is still the same or not. He could be growing like a normal kitsune!

I hurry my pace a little at that information, now determined to help him more than ever. He must've missed so much of his childhood, and his body's probably around Souta's or maybe even my or Inuyasha's age. I'm not going to stall any longer—I will help Shippou get his body back!

Though I have to say, I'll miss having a little kid to hold in my arms or have on my lap or cling to me for help. I know his body will be bigger than his spirit is now; adult kitsune are three to four heads taller than he already is, so if his body's a teenager right now, he'd be at least a head larger. For some reason, after even spending a day with him, the thought of him not being a child anymore depresses me. But, alas, I must keep marching forth.

_Sigh._

I feel my bleeding stop—thank gods—and look down to inspect my hands, which are not a pretty sight. Whereas one is clean from carrying my things, thus avoiding the wound, the other is drenched in a dried, sticky red liquid. Ugh, remind me to use my first aid kit more often. Taking in my shirt's bloody, torn condition as well, I grimace. Maybe I should use a sewing kit, too…

"Oh, my, what on _Earth_ happened to you?"

I have the faint feeling that question is being directed towards me. I blink at the sight before me: a male classmate in an all-black uniform with a cute appearance. There's no single stunning trait, nothing stands out, but I bet girls look at this guy and just think, _Wow, he's a good, cute guy. _I blink again before finally muttering, "Eh, what?"

"You're bleeding like mad!" he gasps, looking at my hand with panicked blue eyes. _Oh, geez. Please don't make him speak again— _"I'll help you, don't worry!" He instantly grabs my reddened hand, and my eyes widen. He whips out a few things from his locker, which is right next to mine, and begins washing away the blood with a disinfected wipe. When he's finished creeping me out—sort of—he asks cheerily, "Now that you're better"—I frown, because he's obviously not noticed my shirt's condition—"you're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you before, and they don't really fill in spaces between lockers—"

"Yeah, I'm new," I interrupt, not caring if that was rude or not. He's wasting my time. Not only do I have to take care of my clothes—though my skirt's _just fine_—I have to go to class and suffer before I'm able to get out and try to find a new job for demon slaying, ghost hunting, and matchmaking. I also have to see how my realistic, possible job's playing out, if Jii-chan needs help at the damned shrine, and how Shippou and Inuyasha have played out this entire day without me—since their immature, violent interactions from yesterday concern me greatly if they truly are an everyday thing. I finally tell cute-but-not-so-bright boy, "I am Higurashi Kagome, third-year, Class _B_."

I hiss out the letter venomously, but he doesn't seem to mind. "And I'm a third-year in Class A." DAMN IT ALL! "Hojo—"

"Gotta go, bye!" I say, running off to class. Now am I not only going to be late, but I'm still wearing a ruined shirt. "Damn it all" is right; ef my life.

I grimace, remembering _Hojo. _Yes, he was nice, yet no, he did not appeal to me. He's extremely annoying? Very true. He didn't just leave me alone like I would've wanted. For some reason, his just asking me what happened is like demanding to know my entire life story, which is confidential. He kind of reminds me of my mother—and not in a good way, either. More like in the ways she would panic over a paper-cut or act overly friendly all the time.

I sigh again. _I miss you, Mama._

I step into the classroom, textbooks and other materials close to my chest as I take in my new peers. Most are average-looking, if not a little pretty or charming. Perfect examples of teenagers, minus the zit-covered faces. The bell is about to ring, so I take the first empty seat I spot, which is between three girls talking their butts off. Their eyes land on me and widen with glee instantly.

"Omigods, who are _you?_"

"Are you new to the neighborhood?"

"What's your name?"

My eye twitches but I force a smile. "Higurashi Kagome," I tell them. "I just moved into my grandfather's place here from my cousin's place from a little faraway."

"Where are your pare—"

"Who are you?" I ask, deciding to cut off the girl with the shortest hair. Thankfully, she doesn't mind my disruption, and introduces herself as Yuka whereas the girl with the shoulder-length locks and a hair band is Eri and the longhaired one's Ayumi. They ask me common questions, I ask them back, being nice, but not really paying attention. That is, until Ayumi notices my shirt's stain and rip, sounding honestly concerned when she asks what happened.

It's great to know people care—but in this case, caring only causes problems. I smile at her and assure them all simply, "It's Kool-Aid. Just really, really good-at-staining Kool-Aid." They blink a few times, their lips twisting in unison. Yeah, I don't think that worked. "Eh, I'd rather not talk about it," I insist, and they nod solidly before our sensei wanders in. He goes over announcements and school events before passing out newspapers. Apparently, in this school, they like to keep up with the news.

And, due to my situation, this isn't good for me at all.

"We've all discussed the wide range of murders across the west Kyoto area," Tamaru-sensei says, and though young, sounds completely professional. I force myself to maintain a good posture, afraid that if I don't keep control over myself, I'll sink into my seat and whimper like the bad yougisha I am. "We've talked about Kotatsu Jukeisha and the sixteen killings he's claimed to commit. We've gone into his mind, trying to see why he'd say youkai helped him, but have come up short. Tell me, new student"—_gulp_—"why would he turn himself in, yet lie about his motives? Who do you think was the female who'd pressured him into going to the police?"

I feel some sweat coming on. Oh, gods, this is too much. "Um…" I'm sure I look like your average, nervous student, but inside, I want to release a beastly scream of anxiety. Despite my nonchalant exterior, I'm freaking out internally. "Who are we to believe that Kotatsu Jukeisha is lying?"

I feel curious, doubtful eyes on me, and I resist the urge to jump out of the window. Tamaru-sensei raises his eyebrows, giving me an amused look. "Are you saying that you think he indeed used demons to obtain people's insides?"

"I don't _think_, sensei," I inform him, realizing I can get control of this situation. I plaster on a cocky smirk I'd seen once from a bipolar hanyou, and make sure to copy his pleased expression. "I _know_."

My new three acquaintances and some other girls gasp, though everyone else keeps watching, entertained by us, probably. The girls, I believe, are attracted to our teacher because of his good looks. He raises his other eyebrow. "Oh, really? Is that so?"

"Yes, sensei," I answer. "What other explanation is there at this point? Kotatsu's not smart enough to do anything on his own, so why not have demons do the work for him? Makes a lot of sense, if you ask me." Ignoring everyone's stares because I'm speaking as if demons are real _and _I know the killer personally, I go on. "I think everything he said was the truth, except being forced by a female. What female could be threatening? Even if she _was_ real, I have no idea as to who this female is, but I'm pretty sure she's still in the Kyoto area—you know, where they wouldn't look to check, since most people move out of the city."

Wait, if that was the case, why did _I _move? And, is it possible that my rambling's became suspicious? I think so, since Tamaru-sensei asks curiously, "How would you know so much about this?"

"I used to live in Kyoto," I reply calmly, and mentally pat myself on the back for keeping my cover while being truthful. "My old guardian's soul mate is Nobunaga Keibu." Well, no lie there. "He tells me everything going on with the case since it greatly interests me." _Translation: "He doesn't know it, but I bugged his office when he tried to hit on my cousin. I was so stealthy when I went in there, telling him that she wouldn't return his call, that she didn't remember meeting him at her work that one time. When he was shocked at my sudden appearance and words—not to mention opposition to she and he going out—I slipped the bug underneath a corner chair! Great, isn't it? When I worked with the police without their knowledge, I used that to kill demons and ghosts in Kyoto until Kotatsu-bastard came along and my cover's almost been blown! YAY for Kagome!"_

I repeat: ef my life.

Everybody but the teacher seems convinced that I'm telling the truth. Tamaru-sensei, however, smiles casually before giving me a look that says, "Let's go talk in the hallway." I hold back a groan and a whimper as I rise from my seat, making my way across the room and to the door. I feel a familiar gaze on me, but I'm sure it's nothing.

After all, with his sensitive hearing, what kind of inu-hanyou is stupid enough to go to a noisy, dramatic place such as a school? I turn and nearly faint at the sight before me.

Inuyasha, suikan kamishimo and all, is sitting outside the window sill, cross-legged with his arms tucked inside his sleeves. I stare, wide-eyed, before softly grimacing, hoping my classmates won't notice why I'm setting a death look towards the window, where Inuyasha's ethereal body is nothing but air to them, normal ningen. His molten-gold eyes gaze into me, making my heart stutter for some odd reason, before glaring at my teacher, who's already by my side, ready to exit the classroom. Inuyasha growls, his voice only audible to a reibai's ears.

I guess that's why I really do faint when Tamaru-sensei glares back with a growl of his own. My last thought, you ask?

_WHY IN ALL THE HELLS IS INUYASHA AT HIGH SCHOOL?_

And then I hear a _thunk _before I drift into sleep.


	5. Clash of Colors

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Jukeisha_ – honorific for a convict/offender  
_Taijiya_ – demon/_youkai _slayer or hunter  
_Houshi_ – most often a Buddhist priest or monk  
_Youkaihanta_ –ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Ningen_ – human being, mortal  
_Gekkahyoujin_ – matchmaker, cupid_  
Ookami_ – a wolf (i.e., _ookami-youkai_)  
_Oji-san_ – a formal way of saying "uncle"

**Things  
**_Youki_ – typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Jyaki_ – wicked demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**5: Clash of Colors**_

* * *

_"A man should control his life.  
Mine is controlling me."_

—Rudolph Valentino

* * *

"How are you, Kagome?"

I nearly groan at the recognizable voice, forcing myself to turn around and face my "superior" fully. Why, why _now_ of all times? I shoot him a heated glare as his beady eyes sweep my body, taking in my ruined shirt and its bloodstains. Why in the hecks is he asking about my wellbeing and whatnot when he has pure evidence that something bad _did _happen? Again, _why _does he want to see me _now_? My teeth grind together involuntarily, and my fists clench, but he either doesn't take note of or care about my distress.

First, he summoned me the other day just to tell me how much I suck—no exaggeration there—and how I needed to step up my game that was non-existent before he told me to get to it. Now he wants something else of me. Dear gods, what does this supernatural being _want_?

You know what I just noticed erratically? How Yue-Laou never clarified if he was dead or not. I've always assumed he was due to him being in the land of the Kami and Buddha, but he's never really informed me if the Chinese legend about him being immortal is true or false.

Then again, in the legends, there was never any poor teenage girls forced into being his successors, either.

Dammit.

He sips from his tea cup casually and gestures to the pillow in front of him, also placed on the cloud. "Sit," Yue-Laou insists in a gentleman's voice, and I grimace, but comply anyways. My boss closes his eyes thoughtfully for a moment before stating, "I will not ask how you obtained those wounds or why you fainted. _But_—"

You know that once someone says _that word _and takes a pause afterwards, a pile of dung is heading your way.

"—since you're already here—"

I resist the incredibly strong urge to jump off the cloud and into the abyss of the sky. Either that, or dump his precious tea on top of his cocky-butt head.

"—I thought I'd help you out with your soul mate predicament."

I blink a few times; my heart skips a few beats and speeds up unpredictably, and I feel my stomach clench as well. Then I finally gather enough guts to ask, "What're you talking about, 'Laou?"

"Your quota, Kagome," he reminds me patiently. "You aren't meeting your quota."

I sigh, automatically calming down, though I steam a bit at the mention of this _quota. _"What am I supposed to do?" I hiss like a poisonous snake, though he's not really absorbing the venom. "Prance around the freaking city, hooking up random pedestrians? Uh, we tried that once, and have you forgotten where that got us?" Yep. Being looked at as a freak when suggesting to two complete strangers that they'd be "perfect for each other".

Yue-Laou exhales tiredly, setting down his tea. _Uh-oh. _I know I'm in trouble when he decides to give me his full attention and not bother with the tea that pretty much consumes his entire schedule. "Kagome," he starts, and I roll my eyes slightly at the overused title. "I know you don't want to bring attention upon yourself, but if you don't do anything, then I won't be able to help you."

I bite my lip, holding back a retort. _He's right, _my conscience tells me. _You could quit—if you didn't need his help, you _would've _quit by now. _I remember when I came up here after trying to help him out, insisting he rid me of my powers, but he needed an apprentice in Japan, and not to mention it turned out that I needed and still do need his help. As long as I act as his trainee, he'll try to help me—too bad I forgot to do my job.

Not even my journal knows why I have to put up with this.

I bite back a sigh. "Fine," I murmur none-too-politely. "So, what about the quota?"

A small grin appears at my change in attitude before he picks up his tea again. "I want to make a proposition with you, Kagome."

Yay for scheming. "What kind of offer?" I ask, eyeing him warily.

He smiles wider. "There are a few couples who have obstacles in their path they need to overcome before uniting with one another, Kagome." The look I give him clearly states that whatever he's saying is whipping past my head. He ignores it anyway, so I'm just stuck with an urge to break some pencils for a few seconds. "It's not a long list; just a few couples that need a little push."

I raise an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" he echoes before shaking his head. "There's no catch."

_Liar. _"Sure," I say, not able to help the sarcasm that honey-coats my voice. "And my life's a stroll through the park." My eyes turn into slits as I demand, "'Fess up already, 'Laou."

"Well…" He pauses, breaking eye contact for a short moment as he takes sudden interest in that gods-damned tea cup. I swear, he's never seen without the thing and random food item of the day. "I decided to make it easier for you." I raise an eyebrow. "You see, these eight couples all include people you know or will know in Tokyo—maybe not as of yet, but at some point, you will know them. I thought it'd be easier if the people you needed to help were ones you came across at least a few times a week, yes?"

I blink. "What couples?" I ask after a pregnant silence. Something hits my head, and I look down to see a scroll that, let's face it, looks even more ancient than Yue-Laou and Jii-chan combined—and that's pretty old. I wonder how he'd made this list so long ago when I remember that souls are reincarnated here; every youkaihanta knows that.

I stare at the sky where the parchment flew from before shrugging nonchalantly and making a move to open the scroll. But when I do, there's only one couple listed:

_Higurashi Shoji + Higurashi Kaede_

I immediately blanch before screaming, "YOU WANT _HIM_ AND _HER _TO HOOK UP? YOU SICK BASTARD!"

Yue-Laou feigns hurt. "Now, Kagome, this is merely your grandfather and great-aunt," he insists. "They know each other because your grandfather's elder brother was her husband, yes? Your grandmother has passed, as has your great-uncle; these two's legend goes that way: to unite with another after their love's deaths."

I should probably explain reincarnations and whatnot right now. Souls carry abilities, character traits, and tasks with them into the next life; if they had a purpose, then their next life will also serve it. Judging by my life so far, the person in my past life was a strong spiritual being who fought evil and had no ordinary life; their parents probably passed when they were at a young age, and they most likely had a younger sibling like I do Souta, who I probably knew in my previous life as someone else. I really doubt my past self had the ability to see red strings, however. Depending on whether or not you died peacefully and whether you were good or evil, your next life is either better or worse than your previous. Seeing as I've lived a pretty crappy life, I'm guessing I didn't die so tranquilly in the past _or _the one before that—and since I'm mostly a good person, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with _how _I died instead of _what _I died as.

Wait— I pale. "My great-uncle hasn't died yet."

He looks up at me, surprised, his mouth opening and closing. Then he looks away uncomfortably, which is unlike him, the person who begs for eye contact. I automatically droop in realization before he even says, "You'll be expecting the call around three o'clock, around the time your school lets out."

I rub my face tiredly, suddenly feeling drained. _Well, that's the shittiest way to find out your relative died. _"And you want me to bring them together so shortly after a death?" I ask, trying to hide my irritation and grief. I never really knew my oji-san personally, but it's still a death in the family.

Yue-Laou turns back to me, so I've obviously made him think I'm not at all bothered by his complete stupidity. "Perhaps you are right: it is too soon," he murmurs, staring down at the list in question. "We'll do them later; let's try another." I reopen it to see a different pairing on it this time.

_Houshi Miroku + Taijiya Sango_

"What?" I say, a little surprised as my mind wanders away from my poor oji-san, Tsuyu's grandfather. "Their last names mean 'Buddhist monk' and 'slayer'? What in the _hells_…?"

Yue-Laou nods. "Both are orphans taken in by the Shikon Five," he tells me. "Sango was brought in with her little brother to a demon slayer section whereas Miroku was taken in by his guardian, also a monk, Mushin."

_Wait—Miroku… Shikon Five… _"HOLY SHIT!" I shout, actually making my boss jump from the out-of-the-blue exclamation. "That's the guy I saved this morning, isn't it?"

"Yes," he says. I'm glad he watches over my life and does research from here so I don't have to explain stuff to him; it feels kind of nice not to have to explain things. "Now, explain to me why you didn't bring them together then?"

Dammit.

"I was running late for school," I confess. "Besides, I didn't think, _Oh, 'Laou will love me for bringing them together! I'll get a congratulatory hug for sure!_" He blinks a few times at my sarcasm, not really recognizing it for what it is, and I sigh. "Never mind. But, what's the obstacle?"

_Please don't tell me a boyfriend or girlfriend died…_

"He's a pervert."

Ah. Great. That made things _so _much easier. "So, I'm supposed to change him or make her overlook it?" I ask, raising another eyebrow.

Yue-Laou opens his mouth to answer when a booming voice suddenly looms over us. _"What the fuck do you mean, 'Get out'? I'M NOT GONNA 'GET OUT', YOU STUPID FUCKING WOLF! _YOU _'GET OUT'!"_

_Inuyasha. _He's the first thing I see when I open my eyes, the clouds, sky, and mythical being suddenly gone and now replaced with an irate inu-hanyou and history teacher fighting.

Um…

"You flea-bitten mutt, you'll wake her up," Tamaru-sensei murmurs, glaring at Inuyasha. "Now get out before I make you, half-breed." So I wasn't imagining things; my teacher can really see ghosts, and at that, tell that Inuyasha's part-youkai.

Wait—wolf? I look at Tamaru-sensei closely, but there's nothing off about him. _What the—? Oh. _The way he said "half-breed", as if degrading Inuyasha… I didn't know that hanyou existed until I met him, so I don't know what people would think of them, but apparently, Tamaru-sensei doesn't think too highly of them. I doubt a human would think of themselves as something higher than a humane demon (or demon with a human appearance), so maybe Tamaru-sensei is a youkai in disguise able to hide his youki.

Inuyasha's growls snap me out of thought. "_Half-breed… _Why, you fucking—"

"Down, boy," I command sternly, eyes hardening. The legendary half-demon's gaze flickers from Tamaru-sensei to me until he seems to back off, readjusting his relaxed, cool stance on the bed beside me. I blush slightly when I notice how close we are on the cot and how my skirt has ridden up a little. We're probably in the nurse's room; I'm still in my school uniform and not hooked up to any IVs, so I know we're not at the hospital.

Besides, the school flag on the wall is a dead giveaway.

"You're awake," Tamaru-sensei says with a smile, earning another growl from Inuyasha.

I give him a dull look. "Obviously, dipshit," I mutter, receiving an amused expression from Inuyasha and shocked one from my teacher. "You have no spiritual _or _demonic aura," I note to Tamaru-sensei before focusing on them both. "So, does _anyone _want to tell me why my teacher can see my yuurei-hanyou neighbor, and why said neighbor is even at the school?"

Tamaru-sensei smirks. "You're observant," he comments, and I roll my eyes. I'm only _observant _because I wasn't really asleep, but in the land of the gods with a mentally-challenged gekkahyoujin figure. "You didn't even ask what happened or where you are. At that, you're fun to banter with."

And at _that_, Inuyasha huffs and _keh_s_. _"She ain't—"

"Stop flirting with me and answer the Kami-damned question," I demand, eyes narrowing as I sit up effortlessly. Inuyasha fumes in protest at my interrupting him, but deciding I'd rather not have a verbal World War take place in the nurse's room, I continue talking—or questioning—my history teacher. "Or are you trying to avoid it?"

Tamaru—save the "sensei" for class—looks even more entertained. "_Very_ observant," he mumbles before saying in a casual tone, "I can see the half-breed mutt because I'm ookami-youkai, thus able to see yuurei." He then slips off his watch, revealing two pointed ears and a tail hanging off the office chair he's sitting in. His blue eyes twinkle as he announces, "Not bad jyaki, but pure youki, as you can tell, Higurashi-miko-sama."

"Kagome," I correct, then my eyes scrutinize his appearance. So, I was right about him being a demon in disguise. Go me. "Your real name isn't Tamaru, is it?"

"Kouga" is what he replies with instead of a _yes _or _no_. A cocky smirk overtakes his features. "I'm one of the many good youkai who've gone into hiding in the modern-day world as ningen."

"Oh, isn't that interesting," I snap. "Youkai living as humans—_woo, _so cool!" I give him a blank look. "Please, exit the room."

Kouga's eyes widen, I guess now realizing I'm very business-like—yet, let's face it, evil—after waking up. He's either that, or shocked that I haven't freaked out from hearing what he just told me. He nods, but whispers, "I'm still going to have to talk to you about Kotatsu Jukeisha's case." Then he leaves, and I sigh, already knowing that was one of the reasons he was in here instead of teaching class.

Man. My first day of school has been _crappy_.

I turn to Inuyasha, who still hasn't really noticed just how close we are. I wipe at my skirt, smoothing it out, before turning to him and saying a single word:

"Asshole."

Have I mentioned how much I love cursing today?

His black eyebrows knit together underneath those ruffled silver bangs. "What the fuck did I do?"

"Why in the eighth hell are you at my school?" I question. Oh, are you getting this, people? Two potty-mouths in the same room. _Joy to humanity, _am I right?

Inuyasha _feh_s_. _"The kit interrupted my nap, saying he smelt your blood in an alley nearby and some spiritual power being used. I went to check it out, but you weren't there, so I followed you to your school."

I _aww _at him, and watching his face display clear annoyance, smirk. For some reason, after I wake up, he's fun to bother. "What'd you know? You _do _have a brain _and _feelings." You know, even though he's bipolar.

"Wench," he mutters, though I ignore it. Then sudden aggravation crosses his face. "Why ya handling the existence of youkai living as ningen so well?" he wonders with a suspicious expression.

I shrug. "Demons aren't stupid," I answer. "I figured all good youkai weren't extinct; if jyaki-massed demons still exist, then there must be full-youki beings, too, right? Besides, Kouga was dropping bigger hints than he meant to." Inuyasha nods in understanding, and I sit up fully. I stare at him, and he returns the favor by staring back. It's a clash of gold and sapphire, a mix of storm and sun, and a vast differentiation like black and white, yet for some reason, when I picture our eyes meeting, I don't feel that we're so different.

I have the feeling I was just now being too impractical for my own good.

"Well…," I finally murmur, desiring to break the too-comfortable silence.

"Well…?" Inuyasha's eyes stray on mine, and though I gaze back, I can sense his leg bouncing somewhat nervously.

"Well, why are you still here?" I ask finally, raising a brow.

His leg stops bouncing as realization and recognition flashes through his honey-colored eyes. "We should go," he murmurs, never breaking eye contact. I somewhat take note of how easy and desiring making eye contact with Inuyasha is while I hate doing it with Yue-Laou, but am too focused on Inuyasha to give it much thought.

Funny, how even when we acknowledge the fact that he should leave and I should go back to class, we don't make a move to exit.

Kouga pokes his head back in. I jump at his unexpected appearance whereas Inuyasha growls. The wolf demon who's my history teacher says, "I've been waiting; I'll be escorting you back to class."

Oh. Huzzah? "Okay," I say, sitting up, and Inuyasha automatically follows. Instead of going through the wall and walking back home, though, he trails behind us as we return to the classroom. I can't comment on it, however, because the door's still open and everybody will hear me talking to thin air, which will make them undoubtedly question my sanity. When we get back in, Ayumi—the shyest and wittiest of my new classmates, apparently—is teaching the class about the Heian era. She smiles at the appearance of "Tamaru"-sensei, and takes her seat in front of me. Yuka and Eri devour me with their eyes—they're probably the most, um, talkative of the three—but I overlook them as I sit down and focus on the lesson.

Or I at least try to. It's kind of hard to pay attention in class when a freakin' inu-hanyou spirit is leaning over your shoulder, watching you take notes, and growling at your teacher. Kouga, for the most hand, ignores Inuyasha and continues on with his lesson as if my acquaintance—or are we friends?—isn't snarling loudly in a threatening way.

Boy, am I glad only beings who can see ghosts can hear them as well.

The entire day goes that way: me, trying to learn and be a good student, while Inuyasha lurks barely a foot away, almost as if acting as my shield. He growls at anyone who looks at me, but of course, his efforts are proven fruitless since no one can hear him, much less feel it when he swipes at them angrily, as if warning them to keep their distance. I swear, the guy's like an overprotective father, or even worse:

_Controlling boyfriend._

Dear Kami, say it isn't so…!

Most of the day is a blur due to my lack of concentration. I go home with a backpack full of homework and a hanyou nagging in my ear. "Keh, how'd you put up with that? Learning and dealing with all those people? Feh, so fucking irritating. Why don't ya just kill 'em?"

After the first three essays of complaints he writes in verbal form, I start to consider purifying him. I'm sure Shippou wouldn't mind; he might even help me exorcise Inuyasha's soul, if he gets lucky.

"WENCH!" he shouts.

"WHAT?" I screech back, glaring at him for making my eardrums bleed metaphorically.

"Did you hear me?" he asks irately, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. I shake my head, and when he sighs and grows serious, I know I should've been listening _when _it was said. He informs me exasperatedly, "My hearing picked up on some kids in the back of your class. They were talking about something involving kids being kidnapped and murdered near water areas."

I give him a soft look, one that moms give their kids right before they tell them they're wrong. "Inuyasha… Kids go missing all the time. It isn't my job to keep track of them."

"No, that isn't the main point," he insists, his eyes narrowing. "They don't know it, but how they described what was going on… It sounded like a kappa."

That stops me in my tracks. _Kappa: _the most famous youkai in our culture. A mix between a monkey, turtle, and frog—ugly, mischievous, evil. Sometimes, they're harmless pranksters that fart obnoxiously or peek up girls' skirts, but other times, they're kidnappers and killers. They're ruthless, taking small children for food, stuffing them up before feasting upon them heartlessly. They live in water areas like lakes and streams, though it said that in modern Japan, they live in our sewage systems. Their methods of killing…

I don't even want to describe it.

"Kappa… You think they still exist?" I ask, tilting my head as we reach the shrine.

Inuyasha looks down at me, an unknown knowledge shining within those sun-kissed orbs. But instead of the answer I expected, he leaps up to the red gate, leaving me to climbing the stairs. At first, I didn't think he said anything. Then I remember hearing a barely distinguishable, "I don't think; I _know._"

I stare at the hanyou as I walk up the steps. He quickly seeks refuge in his typical tree, Goshinboku, not even bothering to offer to help me with anything, such as housework or bringing Shippou's body to safety. I sigh before heading into the house.

_Inuyasha… You're so strange._

* * *

**A/N: **I really don't know what I was doing with this chapter. Really don't. But hope it turned out well. :D


	6. Soiled Moods

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **Looking back, this by far is my most successful chapter yet reviews-wise.

Huh.

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Keibu_ – honorific for a police inspector/captain  
_-han _– _-san _in Kyoto, but pronounced _-han _due to their different accent

**Things  
**_Suikan_ – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**6: Soiled Moods**_

* * *

_"__The trouble with the rat race is that  
even if you win, you're still a rat."_

—Lilly Tomlin

* * *

I have discovered that the reason I am in a bad mood is because I was attacked by a centipede youkai on my way to school today. Yes, I really just realized that was my mood's downfall. What sobers me up is Jii-chan's crying on my shoulder, which makes the whole situation even more uncomfortable for me, the person who knew about my great-uncle's death beforehand.

Right as I came home, he got the call from the hospital telling him that his brother died of heart disease. From that point on, Jii-chan calmly hung up and told me the news before crying on my shoulder, which was conveniently in the same room: the kitchen. It's kind of hard to make dinner with someone's head restricting your arm's movement—not to mention weird to feel someone's tears through your shirt—but I deal with it; I'm probably the closest thing to comfort the old man will get in this household. I show my grief by remaining silent, letting two hours pass of me cooking and him bawling his eyes out. At some point, I think I mused over whether Jii-chan was the sensitive type or not until realizing he wasn't, and that _I _would cry if my brother died, too.

As I finish frying some fish on the stove and the ramen cups from the microwave beep, a faint snore echoes through the kitchen, and I feel my shoulder grow lighter as a thud follows. I turn around to see Jii-chan has fallen asleep and fell to the floor, because apparently, when mourning, I'm the greatest pillow known to man. After an _eep! _and pulling together my strength, I manage to get him on the couch and pull a blanket over him. I sigh as I go tell Souta that dinner's ready, only for him to come down, grab a ramen cup and plate of fish, and run back upstairs to the confinements of his bedroom.

Well. That was nice of him.

_NOT._

Dang, I will _always _play the part of "unappreciated mom", won't I?

I sulk at my brother's antisocial behavior while I grab the two cups of ramen left, a plate of fish for myself, and bag-up Jii-chan's food for when he wakes up. I then grab a water bottle and make my way outside. _I wonder… If Inuyasha can sleep like a normal person, can he also eat food like one as well?_

Once I slide the front door open, his head whips around to face me before he huffs and turns away. Right now, he's on one of the wider branches, staring off into the sky. I yell, "Hey, Inuyasha!" His ear twitches, but he doesn't really acknowledge me. I jog closer until I'm nearly beneath him. "Do you wanna eat or not?"

When his ears stand at full-alert and he turns to me, sniffing the air, I know I've caught him. Smirking, I ask, "Mind bringing me up there, too?" In a flash, he's jumped down, thrown me over his shoulder, and pounced back onto the branch. He quickly sets me down beside him, and for a moment, I resist the urge to barf. All that fast movement made me dizzy, not to mention, his shoulder didn't feel so good when it was poking my guts.

Gods.

I hand him a ramen cup, nausea decreasing significantly when I see what he's watching: the sunset. I didn't expect it, but standing so high with a magnificent view of the closest thing to nature a city can get is pretty neat. The very top of the sky is the darkest, beginning at a dark indigo before shifting into azure, then regalia, then mauve, then peach, then salmon, before finishing off with tangerine around the horizon; the sun is just like mere golden streaks in the orange part, though.

I pick at the fish on my plate, eating it in small bites as I concentrate on the colors of the sky and nothing else. The sounds of the city, voices of noisy pedestrians, Inuyasha's surprisingly soft breathing pattern, lights of vehicles below, clatters of people—they're all nonexistent right now.

At least, they _were _until Inuyasha burped.

I break out of my stupor to see him not kicking one, but _two _ramen cups below the tree. Glaring at him and trying to suppress my slight anger—who knows what'll bring up at that cinnamon scent—I shove the rest of my fish in my mouth before jumping down and gathering the trash. He's about to run off, that stupid ramen stealer, when I announce, "You're not going anywhere." And at his sly smirk and undoubted response, I say, "I need your help with something important."

Inuyasha _kehs_ before sitting down where he stands, crossing his arms by slipping his hands into his suikan. I hurriedly throw the garbage away, rushing inside to set my plate in the sink, go upstairs, and grab all of my gear. And, just in case, I grab my black backpack and stuff it with dark clothing—or more specifically, the ensemble I always wear during sneak-in missions. I smooth out my shirt a little, and hear an instant _plop _by my feet.

Okay… I'm just wondering… _How _did the scroll get inside my shirt and _why _did I not notice it before?

I shrug before strapping on knives, swords, purification dust bags—anything useful. Then, I open up the scroll and see its next pairing: _Nobunaga Amari + Higurashi Tsuyu_. Well, that's just peachy, isn't it? Throwing the scroll underneath my bed, I rush outside to find a particular half-demon in the same exact spot, gazing at the sky again. "Inuyasha?" He turns to me, and I ask, "Where are these kidnappings and murders supposed to be at?"

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

I run to keep up with Inuyasha as he jumps from rooftops of buildings to where this possible kappa is. I'm trying to run at a normal pace so passersby will think of me as going out for a jog, but since I'm wearing my school uniform, they're probably thinking I'm rushing to school for something. Most students never really wear their uniform out in public all that much unless they're doing something school-related, so…

Hopefully that explains some things.

I'm surprised at how swift and smooth Inuyasha's movements are; he looks like he's used to running on high surfaces and jumping from them, too. For a split second, I imagine feudal Japan: jungles with trees instead of skyscrapers, grounds with soil instead of cement, surfaces with insects instead of neon lights. Then, I can see it: a red-clothed inu-hanyou flying through the branches above, his silver hair a sheet in the sky.

I wonder why the image looks so clear when Inuyasha comes to a stop, jumping off the side of the building to land in front of me. Luckily, I see him and pause as well instead of accidentally running into him. We're about two blocks from school, I notice, so my _I need to go to school _excuse will work out just fine. Inuyasha tells me, pointing over to a nearby park, "There's where the cases have been taking place."

I observe the area: law enforcement officers and cars, investigators, police lines—the works. _Shit. We're too late. _I sigh, "There's nothing we can do. Cops are everywhere and—"

Wait, where's Inuyasha?

I look around until I notice there's a certain bracelet in my hand, and I see him walking past and through people at the scene, getting behind the lines. And even though I know they can't see him, what if he just somehow manages to blow his cover?

_Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—_

"Kagome-han?"

_SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT—_

"Nobunaga Keibu-sama?" I say back, plastering on a smile. _"-Sama," my ass! I could beat this guy in superiority any day! _Except social superiority; anyone would listen to a police captain over a third-year high school student. "What're you doing here?"

Man, does fate like to screw with me or what?

He smirks back. "I _should _be asking you that," he says, and I resist the urge for my eye to start ticking. I don't like how he's treating me like an old friend, like I never told him to back off from my cousin, a woman fate makes him run into repeatedly (but, of course, I pull them apart), like he never told methat he was keeping an eye on me because I was suspicious for being interested in any unsolvable cases (all of which had to actually do with demons and ghosts). Still, he answers, "The Tokyo policemen need our expertise. This is another Open Heart Case, it seems."

"Ahh," I say, sounding understanding. Anyone from Kyoto would know about that case right now; it even made national headlines, which is why Tokyo's newspapers have been talking about it as well. "What do you mean by that? What's going on here?"

"Why are you here?" he asks, ignoring my questions.

As a woman used to being in charge, this kind of peeves me off, but I just put out my frustration by scratching my arm, pretending to have an itch. "My great-uncle died, so Tsuyu dropped Souta and me off to stay with my ojii-san for a while and cheer him up," I tell him, only fibbing slightly. "I was on my way to school when I saw the police cars. Is there something wrong, or…?"

Thankfully, probably due to my backpack and school uniform, he takes the bait, and decides to reply to my inquiries. "There's been a string of murders and kidnappings taking place in this park," he informs me, and I nod, already knowing that. "Apparently, kids have been taken right from under their guardians' noses, and there have been miscellaneous drowning and killings." When I give him a curious look, he tells me simply, "Peoples' bodies have been turned inside out, their livers eaten. How the fuck does this shit happen?" I blink a few times at his foul mouth, but I've grown used to it; he always curses when cases that confuse him come up. (Remember, I only know this because I listened in on all his private conversations through a bug in his office. That is _not _the best way to learn about someone, though it surely is effective.)

Truth is, I hate kappa. I just hate them: how they kill innocent people and play pranks as if no one else exists. How they'd pull unsuspecting people into the water to drown them, how they'd peek up your skirt when you weren't looking, and worst of all, actually shove their arm up your ass and grab a hold up of your tongue to only pull it out of your butt, turning you inside-out. Out of all youkai, I hate kappa the most, and luckily, I haven't had to deal with them before this point. I want to _vomit_ when I think of them.

"That's…disturbing," I comment, trying to show how bothered I am by how the people were killed considering a girl my age should not be used to hearing such details. I don't think it's working, but to drift attention away from me a little, I say, "So, you—and your team—" At his verifying nod, I continue. "—are here because they need your experience with strange cases, or…?"

He nods, confirming my first guess. "Thing is, this is just as confusing as the Open Heart Case," he mutters, making me blink again. "Bodies have been found in the ponds, in toilet stalls, along the shores of the water—any place _nearby water_." He exhales tiredly, pinching his nose as he whispers, "What are we _dealing _with?"

I remain silent, watching people work from afar. Or, more specifically, watching _Inuyasha _work from afar. He's observing the bodies up close, and I can tell by the few glances he's giving me, he wants me to check them out. But I can't—maybe I can get away with it without Nobunaga here, but I can't blow my cover with the guy around. I always tried to make him believe I was one of those _Law and Order_ freaks who loves seeing crimes being solved and knows a lot about law enforcement, but he's a tough cookie who just won't believe it. But, dammit, Inuyasha's eyes keep meeting mine, begging for help, and…

Double dammit, why can't I say _no_?

"Nobunaga Keibu-sama?" I ask, and he looks down at me since he's taller. I take an unnoticeable breath before stating, "If you'll allow me to go see their bodies, then I won't stop you from pursuing my cousin."

He looks shocked and suspicious for a moment, but with a resigned sigh, I know he agrees. After all, he didn't even know Tsuyu's secret address and couldn't obtain it from the phonebook because I'd convinced my cousin long ago that many killers—humans and demons alike—picked out random victims from the listings. I can give him whatever information he needs about her while also putting soul mates together.

He doesn't even ask me why I wish to see the bodies. Silently, we weave through the throngs of officers and police lines, Nobunaga flashing his ID to those who question why he's behind the lines, and after that, everyone overlooks why he's taking an eighteen-year-old to go see corpses. The first thing he says since our little deal is, "The latest killing happened to a teenager. Apparently, he was at the park with family when—"

"Kagome," a gruff voice calls, making my attention drift from Nobunaga to Inuyasha, who I immediately walk to, passing Nobunaga as I grow closer to the body. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I realize how his eyes match the color of the descending sun. Then, he murmurs, "It's your classmate—that Hobo guy's twin brother."

I blink, snapping out of my golden-eyed daze. "What?" I mutter. _Hobo…?_

Oh, Kami.

"Hojo?" I ask, scanning the area. Sure enough, there's a familiar bob of brown hair, and he's next to a woman crying. They have a whole family there, mourning over the loss, and my heart rips at the scene. Even worse?

It completely splits when my eyes stray to the body on the ground.

The paramedics have decided to keep it inside-out for certain purposes, but seeing the organs on the outside…

I'm permanently scarred.

"Kagome-han?" I turn to Nobunaga, who's gesturing to the body they're about to pack up. I take a deep breath, specifically from Inuyasha's area since only his natural scent can be on him (not the smell of death), and step forward to investigate. I've seen gruesome cases, but knowing that this happened to a kid who went to my school, who was the twin brother of a boy who'd been annoyingly nice that morning—it bothers my stomach to no end.

I bend down beside the body, holding my breath, and covering all airways. I take in the way the tongue seemed stressed, how the buttocks seemed to be stretched, how the organs around the liver have seemed to be perturbed and clawed, and nod, indicating I was done. Without meeting his eyes, I take the pen out of Nobunaga's pocket, grab his hand, and scribble down Tsuyu's information. Then I quickly leave the scene, Inuyasha a few steps behind me.

I don't meet Hojo's eyes on my way out of the park, afraid I'll just see an exact copy of him turned inside-out. Inuyasha's hand unexpectedly rests on my shoulder for comfort, but I don't acknowledge it. Cases are always harder to deal with when you're somehow connected to the victim, whether you met them or had a mutual acquaintance. When you're dealing with murders of any kind, you're supposed to have a clear mind to deal with the fact that someone died, and you need to skip over the grief to solve it.

"Kappa," I whisper to Inuyasha, though I'm sure he already knows. "Hojo's brother…was killed by a kappa, and there are probably more keeping all those missing kids hostage, stuffing them up until they can kill and eat them, too, and—"

"Shut up," Inuyasha says softly, "and just walk to the runt's."

I obey.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

The moment Inuyasha and I reach his front yard, the kitsune bounds from the house, yelling cheerily, "KAGOME!" He tackles me into a hug, and I manage a laugh and a smile when Inuyasha glares at him for only acknowledging me. Shippou simply brushes him off, probably assured that he won't get hurt as long as I'm holding him. "Inuyasha," he huffs toughly, and I giggle. He grins cheekily, and I return it, especially when he asks, "Are you gonna get my body today?"

"Uh-huh," I say, walking into the house, leaving the door open for Inuyasha even though it's unnecessary. Suddenly remembering something, I open my clasped hand and slide the bracelet onto Inuyasha's wrist so that he can walk on surfaces like a normal person and touch any light object, etc. Then I wander through the house, going to the basement door, and I'm about to open it when I'm sort of, maybe shoved out of the way.

I glare at Inuyasha, but he merely huffs air. "Wench, _I'm _going to go check it out."

"Whatever you say," I mumble with a roll of my eyes, turning to Shippou as Inuyasha goes downstairs. "Hey, you want to play I Spy?" I ask him, and he nods excitedly. After I teach him the game, we both take turns pointing out something in the house and guessing what the object is. It's only after we've done this for a while that I realize Inuyasha hasn't come back up.

_What in the _hells_…? _I tell Shippou, "Wait here; I'll be right up," and open the door further as I call, "Inuyasha!"

He snaps, "Don't come down here!"

Okay, scratch my previous thought. It's now, _What the _FUCK_? _

I'm about to step down when he appears out of nowhere, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. He ushers me out, and I scowl at him, mentally demanding an explanation. "Don't go down there," he says simply, his face pale.

My frown burns deeper into my expression. I'm pretty sure this isn't normal behavior. Even for a bipolar hanyou, this isn't anywhere _close _to normal behavior (or sane, at that). "What's going on, Inuyasha?"

"Hey, runt," Inuyasha mutters, making Shippou's back straighten. "You're staying with me in the tree from now on, okay?" Eyes shining with admiration, the kit nods before racing out of the room, undoubtedly heading for the shrine as he chants something along the lines of _"I get to hang out with Inuyasha _and_ Kagome!"_ I turn to Inuyasha and raise an eyebrow, wondering exactly why he did that. He just grumbles before grabbing my arm and pulling me out of there.

Hey, hey, _hey_!"Jerk!" I snap childishly, jerking out of his hold and walking on my own. I do _not _like to be manhandled. But I'm wondering, what happened down there…?

The rest of the night, I clean out the shrine for Jii-chan, reheat his dinner and give it to him when he's awake, and help Souta with his homework. It's only after I've taken my shower and dressed for bed that I realize Inuyasha was acting kind of weird today. I put on my slippers before walking outside to the tree, where he's startlingly awake. From how he seemed to sleep this morning, I thought he would've been out by now. Taking note of Shippou sleeping securely on the branch nearby him, I whisper, "Inuyasha?" His ear twitches, acting as his greeting. "Hey, I was in my room, thinking, and I was wondering…" Here's the grand moment:

"So, uh, what did you think of my school?"

Wow, am I lame or what?

His eyebrows noticeably furrow. "What?" I sigh, and he growls, "I know what you said, wench, I just wanted confirmation." He then pauses before grunting, "The kids stank, it was too fucking noisy, there was always that bell that made me want to kill a mass of people, and the food stank just as much as the people. Oh, and at that, THERE WAS A FUCKING WOLF DEMON IN THERE!"

I blink. And stare at him. Then ask, "So, you liked it?"

"Keh, it was okay," he confesses with a shrug. "Better than being around my brother," he mutters.

I consider asking about that until I recall he doesn't like to really talk about anything personal. So instead, I actually pop the question I wanted to ask in the first place:

"Why?"

Aren't I descriptive?

Inuyasha turns to give me a baffled expression, and asks lowly, "What?"

"Why did you take care of me during school today?" I question. "Why did you warn me that it was Hojo's twin? Why did you even tell me about the murders?" I mean, it's obvious he doesn't care for me, a _miko _and whatnot, and I can't be trusted, so why was he so, I don't know, caring and helpful?

He simply _fehs_ and turns back to looking out at the sky that he seems to find so interesting. I sigh as a few moments pass, and go to turn back when he states, "A little birdie told me to be nice to you."

I snort instantly. _"A little birdie"? _That does _not _sound like something he'd say. I ask innocently, "Which kind of bird?"

He whips around, and I blink as I process the serious look on his face. Inuyasha? Being serious? Why has he been so serious ever since school ended? His sun-kissed eyes scorch in the darkness of the night, and I can just imagine my water-pooled orbs widen when he murmurs in reply,

"The dead kind."


	7. Afraid to Go Potty

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **Editing chapters…GAWD. *bangs head on table*

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Keibu_ – honorific for a police inspector/captain  
_Reibai_ – spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"_  
Youkaihanta_ – ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Gekkahyoujin_ – matchmaker, cupid

**Things  
**_Youki_ – typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**7: Afraid to Go Potty**_

* * *

_"__Life is just a phase you're going through...  
you'll get over it."_

—Anonymous

* * *

I hate funerals. Kind of weird, I know, since I have to attend them in order to find yuurei to assist and gather information from—many souls don't rest after they've been killed, and willingly tell me what I need to know—but I don't like funerals because of the people who attend them. Family, friends, neighbors—anybody from anywhere, really. Saddest part is that I'm _jealous _of these people. It sounds strange, but I wasn't even allowed to attend my own parents' funerals; I don't think anyone has any idea on how much I would've loved to see my parents before they were cremated, to at least witness them in a peaceful state, instead of the last image I had of them alive.

Because, really, I made the mistake of looking at their bloodied, beaten corpses after seeing their souls. And having that vision of your parents as your last really, _really _sucks.

I teeter a bit in my accursed penny loafers, listening as Principal Hikaru, a lean man with long black hair, and Vice Principal Mitsuru, a fat man with no hair, go on about the school's loss, and how Hojo Akitoki was a good student and friend. I shift a little bit in my black mourner's kimono over my school uniform, which I will be wearing when we get back from our field trip.

Yes, the _entire _school is attending Hojo Akitoki's funeral. And yes, I find it extremely awkward, especially as a certain hanyou's gaze is practically burning through every inch of me as he sits on Goshinboku, right beside Shippou, who looks curious as to why Inuyasha's pretty much set on staring at me for the entire time I'm here.

Oh, and did I mention how Higurashi Shrine is _hosting _the funeral?

From his place beside me, Jii-chan scoffs at the prayers, still holding onto the urn of Akitoki's ashes with care, but I know that seeing someone else's funeral is reminding him of the one we'll be attending this weekend, so he's really hurting inside. Souta has been excused from his early classes to help out with the service, and is currently passing out tissues to grievers as silently as he can, offering small words of comfort to relatives, friends—anyone really. My locker neighbor Hojo is standing beside his mother, who's weeping silently, and both don't say a word as the educators each take their turns to talk about the Class A student (who, after hearing that, I am also envious of). He sends some looks at me from time to time, but feeling ashamed, I overlook them.

I was too late to save Akitoki, his brother, and all because I didn't investigate instantly. And for that, I don't really deserve his reassuring smiles and sad eyes.

"…and he had the best damn grades I ever saw," Tamaru-sensei, aka Kouga, murmurs into the microphone of the stand I'd set up earlier for those who wanted to give heartfelt speeches and parting messages. Even from the few feet separating us—which is probably the reason Inuyasha's hovering over me at the moment, I realize—I can tell his knuckles are turning a sickly white from his tight grasp on the stand's rims. Just like everyone else who knew the deceased, he's taking it pretty hard, but unlike most people and more like me, he knows the real reason behind the teen's death. "Hojo Akitoki-kun was the kid who shared his notes with others, forgiving them when they were handed back in shreds or slobber or never returned at all, and gave everyone a smile even if they hated him—the type of naïve boy you just knew was a good person with a good heart…"

Truthfully, if I'd known him, I'm sure we would've been friends. If I came here sooner… _Not only would we maybe be friends, but he'd be alive. _I swallow hard at the thought, choking back a gulp of air in my throat.

I glance at the small shrine dedicated to the deceased behind me, where a portrait of him and a statue engraved with his name are surrounded by flowers, fruits, and other things he may enjoy in the afterlife. Of course, with how young he passed and unfair the circumstances had been, he may very well still be lingering on Earth, refusing to die in spirit; but then again, he seems like the kind of guy who would forgive and forget about his own murder. I sigh, do a little praying to Kami that this conflict will be solved and he may truly rest in peace before reincarnation, and then open my eyes. Everyone's now praying as well, no doubt something Principal Hikaru started, and my gaze meets that of Inuyasha's. He stares at me for a moment before focusing on something behind me, obviously alert to a presence nearby. Casually, I sneak a glimpse over my shoulder, and gape at what's before me.

Smiling brightly, almost _nonchalantly_, he waves at me innocently, a damned Hojo-lookalike sticking transparently out of his own portrait.

After the service, I tell Inuyasha with my eyes to convince Akitoki to stay longer, and with a slight scowl—probably pissed I'm ordering him around a bit—he jumps off to the other disembodied soul. I then return to school, where my peers are deathly quiet and refuse to laugh and smile gaily. Kouga doesn't even try to outsmart me first class; instead, he drones his lesson, sounding like he'd rather go to bed than keep his job. The rest of the day goes by, people still silent and mourning, whereas I, the new girl, do whatever it takes to blend in; thus, I do nothing. I was bored and tired through most of the day, not even having Inuyasha following me around to annoy the hell out of me, so imagine my oddly-bestowed joy when I come home to a flustered hanyou and smug-looking Hojo-yuurei.

Wait… Akitoki looking smug? Inuyasha being _flustered_? What in the _third hell_ happened while I was at school?

"Higurashi Kagome, correct?" he says after I greet him. I nod in response, and he breaks out into a charming grin. "Ah, Higurashi-san, my brother spoke much of you before we went to the park. He's much of a health nut—we all are—and he's been enticed by your injury. If you don't mind me asking, however did you obtain it?"

I stare at him blankly. Not only does he speak formally, but he hasn't even mentioned me being able to see him or Inuyasha's evidently abnormal heritage. _Weird. _"Well, if you haven't noticed," I say with an edge of sarcasm in my tone, "I'm not your ordinary schoolgirl. I see ghosts, am friends with a yuurei-inu-hanyou and kitsune, and hunt evil youkai and ghosts while helping the innocent move on with their lives. What Hojo-kun saw was just a flesh wound I got earlier from a centipede youkai."

As if suddenly being informed of the current circumstances, he goes wide-eyed and stares at me in shock before turning to Inuyasha and drinking in his silver mane, sunset eyes, and velvet dog ears. Then, proving my suspicion of him somehow not noticing it before, he exclaims, "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!"

I roll my eyes. People really _weren't _exaggerating when they said he was a tad on the naïve side, were they? "Thank you, Captain Obvious," I retort, not even bothering to sugarcoat my sarcasm as I see Inuyasha nearly burst into flames, he's so annoyed. "But did you catch my drift? I'll help you move on and slay the demons that killed you; we just need a little bit more info on the situation."

Eagerly, Akitoki nods, and is about to sit beside me on the base of Goshinboku when Inuyasha growls, warding him off. I can literally see the light bulb go off in his head as he suddenly pipes up, "Wait." I raise an eyebrow, showing him he had my attention. "I'll help you under one condition." I wait a moment until he declares,

"Please go out with my brother."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you piss off a half-demon.

"_FUCK_ NO!" Inuyasha screams, and for a moment, I wonder why he's so against the idea of me and Hojo—and why he was so mad about Kouga flirting with me, at that. "BITCH IS OFF-LIMITS!"

_Bitch? _Doing an imitation of him, I yell back, "HANYOU IS STUPID! AND _FUCK _YES, BITCH ACCEPTS DATE IN EXCHANGE FOR INFORMATION!" Snorting lightly at my own antics—because I entertain myself, sadly—I turn to Akitoki and smile reassuringly. "I'll talk to your brother about it, Hojo-kun. Now, for the questions…"

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

_Eternity was forever—a forever Kagome could not even begin to comprehend. It was a long road ahead of her, one with too many strides, a street with a distance that frightened her into even taking that first step. It was a never-ending dream, her reality—and a promised eternity just seemed to wither her away._

_Much like the flower in front of her, its petals falling off one by one, wilting and shortening its lifespan with every moment of weakness._

_It was funny how Kagome was fascinated with the dead flowers over the lively ones as a child. Girls her age in Tsuyu's Kyoto neighborhood were playing tag with their friends, and here she sat in front of the dried pots of her cousin's garden, admiring the dying buds as they passed before her two eyes, her remaining family members oblivious to her whereabouts within their small apartment. She enjoyed seeing the plants decompose ever-so-slowly, and when the time was right, re-grow into what they once were, as if a phoenix from myths._

_Myths were never meant to be true, though, and it was not so funny how she seemed fascinated with death and rebirth itself._

_She knew her family worried—even Tsuyu, who was just bonding with her, often thought about the young girl's oddity. Wondered why she didn't rejoice the flowers blooming and were at their most beautiful stage in life, but instead, cooed as they lost their lives before sprouting out of the soil once more. Kagome's mother had said she was talented, special, able to recognize the many stages of life. Kagome's father had been a little more than fearful, wondering if his daughter was an in-the-closest plant-sadist. Souta, meanwhile, just didn't care whereas Kagome's cousin was, as of the moment, giving her space and keeping most of her musings to herself._

_However, if Kagome was awed by a plant's life beginning and dying, she wavered just the same with humans. Because, as her parents lied dying in front of her just a few days prior, she could not give any real response except stare in astonishment as she saw double. Besides seeing their spirits reassuring her, perhaps her thoughts on life and death, of passing before rebirth, were the main cause for her being calm as her parents died. They'd be reincarnated, just like the plants would, and live again before the process played out, and same would go for her and everyone else in the world._

_Just like the flowers before her eyes, they'd come back to her. They always did._

_And she would be sitting in front of Cousin Tsuyu's apartment, watching the flowers live and die, waiting for her parents' arrival for the rest of her everlasting eternity._

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

I scrub the sleep from my eyes at two in the morning, wavering between a rock and a hard place—aka, whether or not I should go back to sleep. All in all, it's a hard decision. After dreaming of the past, I don't really feel like going back to bed in fear of reliving the memories again. But, of course, school's tomorrow, and every good student needs as much sleep as necessary, especially if they're a nocturnal busy bee like me.

From my spot at the dinner table, I sigh, getting the urge to rub my temples tiredly, but settle for tightening and loosening my grip on the half-full coffee mug in front of me. I have and will never like coffee; never does it taste right, never can I make it right, but Tsuyu loves it. She goes to Starbucks every morning to retrieve her coffee before she goes to work at the office. And as fate would have it, Nobunaga Keibu happens to also need coffee before work as well.

And that's where they met: two years ago at a Starbucks. Just one little encounter that made Nobunaga almost fall in love with her, a move I'd recognized and automatically prevented. I've done everything in my willpower to separate my cousin and her soul mate—otherwise known as the man who's been on my ass for half a decade now—and now, it's all been proven worthless.

Because he has her address, phone number, everything—and their red string is proof enough that he'll do whatever it takes to make her happy. And, like predicted, she'll be happy.

With him.

My _enemy._

I sigh again, as if hoping the exhales will shoo away the depression nipping away at my nerves. My missions are important, I know that, and Tsuyu deserves happiness, but what if she's happy, and he's happy…

My eyes begin to droop as I focus on the kitchen table in front of me, the only source of light being some candles nearby.

If they're both happy…

I'll be unhappy.

Honestly, before now, I never understood why I'd always felt that those two being together would make me unhappy. Even if Nobunaga is my enemy in crime-fighting (though he's naïve in a lot of parts), if he fell in love with Tsuyu, he'd do anything for her—including accepting her freak of a cousin who'd tampered with his cases and fights youkai and ghosts, at the same time, passing on yuurei and matching up soul mates. (Which reminds me, I should never, _ever _tell anyone about my stealing information from him. Like, _ever._) So, if he had no choice but to accept me, I wouldn't have to fear him and the police, especially since they wouldn't mind running tests and whatnot on me to see why I have these gifts…

Well, like I said, I never really understood why I've felt this way until _now_. I exhale deeply, closing my eyes upon realizing that I'm jealous my cousin and enemy have soul mates—each other. _Meanwhile…_ I glance down at my fingers and grimace. _It's not fair._

Deciding to wander away from that topic, my gaze drifts to the darkness of the window and I—you guess it—sigh. Mama and Papa are never coming back to me, because life and death doesn't work that way. I, of all people, should know that by now.

And I, of all people, should realize I should just get up and do something since sleep is nearly impossible. Letting out a drowsy grunt, I drink the rest of the coffee, which has turned cold due to it sitting around for over half an hour, and change into more appropriate clothes.

I think back to my dream, some distant memory taking place shortly after Mama and Papa's deaths, and sigh. Once again, my opinion has obviously changed much since that instance outside of Tsuyu's apartment. Life and death is no longer a light matter, one that filled me with awe and curiosity; it's grave and my newfound duty to either prevent death or assist them in the afterlife. My parents won't come back to me like I assumed, rebirths didn't work like I thought they did, and I can't wait for them anymore. I have to move forward, take numerous steps away from the past, and face the future, because pondering on what's no longer here is seemingly a waste of my time. I have to forget and just run head-on, running, running away from the things I can't fix.

But if that's the case, then why is it so hard to not look over my shoulder and remember everything all over again?

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

After that confusing can of worms, I head towards the park Inuyasha showed me earlier that evening. I'm a silhouette in the night; dressed in all black with black hair, the only distinguishable feature probably being my moonlit complexion. My clothing's tight, the outfit I packed earlier—one destined for battle and perfect for sneaking around. I have to say it was a tad too difficult to sneak past a certain yuurei-hanyou and kitsune, but it was easier than I expected. I really thought that, somehow, an alarm would go off when I tried to get off shrine grounds without telling anyone, and I'd be punished on the spot.

To be honest, I almost went back inside the moment I came out. I mean, I walked across the tiles like a spy, held my breath like the apocalypse would occur if I didn't, and relaxed every fiber of my being in order to set off false pretenses. But the moment I saw silver hair reflecting moonlight, my heart sped up in panic, and when I saw a redheaded kid in his red-clad lap, I felt guilty for sneaking out without either Inuyasha or Shippou knowing of my location. What if they woke up, and worried (or, at least, Shippou did)? Would they understand the situation and my reasons, or blow it out of proportion and grow angry with me?

Either way, it all in all doesn't matter, because I need to go get rid of this bastard kappa _now_, or else more people will die and the kind yet stupid Hojo Akitoki will never pass on in peace.

My taut leather pants are sort of hard to run in; skirts are far easier to move around in, but due to the type of youkai I'm dealing with, my usual choice of a skirt is out of the question. Meanwhile, tonight's a little humid, so I sweat a little underneath my black tank top and jacket as I swiftly move down the streets, a shadow to even those alertly awake in the very early morning. My weapons are placed underneath my clothes as always, but fortunately, I'm wearing my special jacket this time, which gives me more room for weapons since you can't really retrieve knives and whatnot from super-tight pants.

My mind repeatedly wanders back to that beautiful moment last evening, with the very last of the twilight reflecting off Inuyasha's silver hair and his topaz eyes gleaming even more from the sun as he gave me that chilling, serious answer.

_"__The dead kind."_

My mind had went blank after that as I nodded and walked back inside, and I was robotic in almost every movement ever since. What could he have possibly meant with that sentence? I know he didn't mean a literally dead bird—though, due to my experience, it could be possible, that is, if he spoke the language of birds—but who's this figurative bird? "The dead kind"—someone dead told him, I suppose. Is it a ghost, some sort of spirit, a memory? Whatever or whomever it was, they apparently gave Inuyasha the urge to be nice to me.

Through the fog and smog of the suburban Tokyo sky, I can make out no stars. There weren't any in Kyoto, either—once again, pollution sucks ass—but if we got lucky and the exhaust wore down along with the clouds, us Kyoto citizens could point out little sparkles. Even then, it was rare to see a star. I recall a vacation my family took to the mountains when I was much younger, and remember how amazed I was to see the four lone stars forming a circle formation in the sky. Yet once again, there are no stars in the abyss of night belonging to my new hometown—just a waning moon, missing a few slithers of the full one that existed just a few nights ago.

I wonder, what did Inuyasha see as time passed? When had the stars begun to disappear? Was it after the formation of cars and factories, or could it have been a cause before our modern times? He must've watched the night sky just like he did the evening sunset, admiring the stars and moon, watching them fade slowly, day by day, slipping from his fingertips until all he had left was dusk itself.

I think maybe life's like that in some ways. The stars, moon, sunset—how we shine brightly, but eventually dim; how things light our path, but have to vanish at times before returning; how several colors contrast to the paintings of our lives, our histories, while the sun shines bright at other times. Then there's the new moon—where you're engulfed by darkness, and it's your weakest time because there's no light, there are no stars, and you're just left vulnerable.

And I think I have just set a new record for "Most Analogies Made in One Night". Congrats, self.

With a hiccup of a sigh (yes, it's possible), I finally see my destination ahead: the park. There are still police lines, but those idiots aren't even standing guard; there's no one in sight, and the only noise I hear is the wind brushing the trees' leaves. That, and some of the pond spots stirring, though it's from the small pipe that supplies it water. After scanning the area a few times, I have two decisions: search the lake area, where I saw the investigation occur, or the bathroom, where Nobunaga Keibu said there'd been killings in, but didn't show me, and also where Akitoki said he felt an ominous aura from when he'd come earlier that evening to check on his murder scene.

Between the lake and the bathroom, I choose the latter, but not to go potty; that'd be incredibly stupid when there are kappa running amuck and using the sewage pipes as their way of transportation.

Maybe Akitoki wasn't lying about an ominous aura, because there's that nagging feeling in my stomach telling me to turn back, someone could be watching me, etc. However, I ignore it for the most part since it decides to make its appearance _way _too often in my life. When I enter the women's restroom, pushing open the door, the lights flicker on, but they're scarily dim as a dripping noise catches my attention. _Damn faucets, _I think, maneuvering my way around the bend, towards the sinks. Always in a creepy scene, something's leaking water, making you freak out, when really it's not—

Shit, never mind.

I stay rooted to my spot as the dripping continues, but it's not water from a faucet—it's blood from a body. Because there, hanging from the ceiling before me, is an inside-out corpse with missing organs, one of which is the small intestines connecting her to the ceiling. How can I tell it was a "her"? The ovaries—I can see them.

_Worst sex ed. lesson ever taught._

But what's even worse is realizing I was too late.

My stomach churns and twists, and I feel my throat constrict when bile makes it way to my mouth, but I refuse to really show my disgust that openly—not when the culprits of this could be nearby, watching me right now. Swallowing my stomach fluids, ignoring the way they burn my throat, I step forward, and my senses increase tenfold under the ominous cloud of danger. My eyes grow alert, scanning the area repeatedly for any things out of the norm, and my hand flutters to my side, ready to draw any weapon as my spiritual power flares, ebbing with warning.

The body's hanging in the middle of the room, so there's no indication of where the kappa are located. They could be in the stalls, in the ceiling, somehow beneath my feet or in the sinks or hanging lights—I wouldn't know, because prankster youkai are pretty good at hiding their youki. With a silent inhale from my sleeve, I hold my breath just a little as I withdraw a sanctified knife and step closer to the girl.

_"__Ugh," _I can't help groaning when I get an even more detailed view of the human anatomy. Not the greatest thing I've ever seen, because I'm definitely considering it the be the worst—even freakier than seeing the empty chests of those Open-Heart victims after coronary examination.

"Enjoying the view?"

_FUC—_

I twist my body around, making sure to cover up my buttocks as I spot a green creature ahead of me. I've never faced a kappa before, though I heard of some cases, so I always relied on old drawings and predictions of their appearances. And most of it was true—except I don't think real kappa have water in those craters they call their heads, which served as their life source in legends. I thought I could take them down that way, but apparently not.

They aren't as hideous as the drawings predicted; they have turtle-like beaks with a hole above (I think their nose), a mostly frog-like appearance, and pointed ears with ugly green skin—no hair. Their eyes are bigger than I thought, and the pee-yellow color is practically smirking at me, taunting me to make a false step. Funny how something so much shorter than you can be such a big threat.

Deciding to hide my disgust and tinge of fright, I smirk in a cocky way—the _Inuyasha _way. "Pretty fucking nasty, if you ask me," I tell the thing honestly, yet in a confident voice. "You must get a thrill out of it, though, being the sick bastards you are."

The thing smiles; I cringe, feeling the room temperature drop slightly as my eyes train on the small form before me, but also remain aware of the carcass nearby. The kappa says, "We get a thrill out of many other things, too."

I growl impressively—Inuyasha's rude behavior must be contagious—and snap, "I'll kill you, you little bastard, before any of that shit happens!" I expect it, or him, to flinch or ease away when I charge at him with my knife, vision turning red as I imagine all that the monster's done to the dead girl hanging from the ceiling, but the thing's smirk merely widens sadistically. It's then that I'm jerked back by clawed hands, and finally take note of the green appendages sticking out of toilets, ceiling tiles, and moving out from behind the mirrors while the lights start flickering.

Realizing my mistake, my heart nearly stops beating.

If I'd been hungry for anything before, I just lost my appetite, and if I'd eaten anything before I came here, it'd have been thrown up a _long _time ago.

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews…reverse psychology…

… DON'T CLICK THE BUTTON. 8|


	8. The Meaning of Shikon

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **I killed the serious tone. That's right, I did. I mostly did humor for this chapter, which I'm sorry for, but hey, it had to come back eventually, right? (Though I think I did kill a few deep moments in this chapter by adding humor… Hm…)

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
__Yougisha_ – honorific for a criminal suspect  
_Gekkahyoujin_ – matchmaker, cupid  
_Reibai_ – spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"_  
__Youkaihanta_ – ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
__Daiyoukai _– "great demon", such as the Inu no Taishou  
_Yariman _– "you whore" in Japanese; a girl who will go to bed with anyone  
_Onee-san_ – a child's polite way of addressing a young female stranger  
_-baachan_ – an informal yet endearing way of saying "aunt"; "Auntie"

**Things****  
**_Suikan_ – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)_  
_

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**8: The Meaning of Shikon**_

* * *

_"__It may be that your sole purpose in life is  
simply to serve as a warning to others."_

—Anonymous

* * *

It's official.

Kappa are total _assholes_.

I mean, who knew they could use duct tape (how did they even know duct tape _existed_?) and properly tie rope? Because, yes, I am currently off the ground, rope binding my wrists together and wrapped around my ankles, tying me limply to the ceiling, with a piece of duct tape slapped over my mouth, next to a deceased girl with her guts up for show.

Oh, how I _hate _kappa.

Is this how they torture their victims? All previous evidence leads to _no_, but if that's the case, why did they only gang up on me before deciding to keep me so _comfortable_ in a demonic hostage situation? And if I'm being held captive, does that mean I'll come across the other kids they've kidnapped? Because, really, it's something to consider.

The bathroom's damp and apparently grimy, its once pristine tiles now coated with muck and dirt while the mirrors are covered with fingerprints and stray make-up smudges. I can barely breathe through my nose, it's so apparent the toilets need cleaning and the air is screaming for some Febreze. My eyes don't fall to the ground, where the girl's blood is, or to the ceiling, where her intestines is in view, or to my right, where her insides are boldly on display—muscles, bones, organs, and all. Instead, I stare straight ahead, looking dead as a heated discussion takes place below.

Well, actually, first I glance at the corpse right next to me, blanch at the guts strewn all over the room, and then focus on the gut-churning youkai below with glaring eyes.

Beautiful. Just freakin' _beautiful_.

The shortest kappa suddenly squeaks, making me realize I've missed some of their conversation. "No! _No!_" he insists in a childish tone. "I want her, Ken, and I'm not going down without a fight!"

Sighs echo throughout the room. "Jiro, you may take her," the one I first ran into says slyly, "but only if I can eat her liver afterwards." Then he looks at me with lidded eyes and licks his lips.

My eye develops a tick.

I'm apparently a prize now—the only reason they're keeping me alive. Man, I feel _so_ special. Rolling my eyes, I try to shout, but it only comes out in hopeless muffles. They all chuckle, I fume and turn red in the face, and then they continue talking about me as if I'm not even freaking there. I hate not being in reach of all my weapons. I hate not being acknowledged by my enemies. Oh, and I also absolutely _hate_ being tied up and hung like some butcher's piece of meat.

I HATE KAPPA, I HATE KAPPA, I HATE KAPPA…

"Come to think of it," the greenest one says from the front, sniffing abruptly, "she kind of smells funny." Taking a big whiff that makes my own nose wrinkle in repulsion, he confirms in disapproval, "Inu-daiyoukai."

And apparently, kappa hate inu-youkai. I'm not sure where the daiyoukai has come from, since Inuyasha's not anywhere near royalty, but the inu part has made itself obvious. I still hate kappa, so what a lovely combination of hate, hmm?

"But the only dogs around here are that cold-hearted bastard and his followers," a more knowledgeable demon says with a furrow of his nasty eyebrows. My nose twitches at the notion, as I try to process this new information. There aren't only ookami-youkai like Kouga in today's society, but also an inu-daiyoukai and no doubt even more dog demons supporting him. Who knew? "The previous Inu no Taishou's second son was said to have died long ago, and the only ningen known to be around the current Western Lord is his mate…"

Jiro pipes up, "Didn't ol' Jaken abandon us some centuries ago to follow Sesshoumaru-sama?" Apparently, Jaken and Sesshoumaru—who I'm guessing is this Western Lord—aren't people the kappa like, because Jiro is punished for saying their names by an introduction to many fists and organs to the face.

Meanwhile, I am growing an even stronger urge to scream into a pillow. Ah, great, _more_ kappa and demons exist. Oh, I'm practically jumping for joy.

Or, at least, I would be if my _gods-damned hands and feet weren't useless right now_!

I sigh, exhausted, blocking out their voices as I focus on a way out of this situation. I'd been cornered with their sharp talons and grossness before, thus had no choice but to be tied up. But now that they're distracted, I think I may have a chance at getting out of this and coming up with a suitable way for escape.

You know, if all the blood stops rushing to my head.

Holding back a groan and ignoring the tension in my eyes, I try to look for an accessible exit; when I'm free of my restraints, I don't want to waste any time that could be used for escaping. All I can think of is the door I originally took behind the bend, maybe some vents in the walls, floor, and ceiling, though I'd prefer the door since any space above or below could've been used for "food storage". With a sigh of frustration blocked by my mouth's restraints that's unnoticed by the kappa, I try fussing with my wrists again to see if my pocketknife will pop out or not. I rub against the rope, being careful of my stance, lest I want to draw attention to myself and end up like Victim #2 over there. I'm somewhat relieved I don't know who the girl is, but slightly guilty for not showing up earlier and getting her identity so I don't think of her as "that chick whose blood I just landed in".

…Shit.

Rubbing my jaw from where it smacked into the ground and staring at the broken and apparently weedy rope in wonder, I only have a second to realize the kappa are coming at me with knives.

Double shit.

I scramble up and away from my opponents, and once in a battle stance, my eyes narrow to enhance my vision and see movements made before they're finished. I draw a long sword from my spine sheath, probably my only hope in this situation, and I swing it to ward them off, which is proven effective for the meantime (though a few of them go bye-bye as my blade accidentally slices through them like jelly). After three of them are gone and they're approaching me again, I question in a bark, "Okay, you assholes! Where have you kept your hostages?"

A few kappa chuckle, amused with themselves probably, and wave their weapons to produce a threat and probably strike me down with fear. It's not working; just annoying me beyond belief. The first one I met smirks, and I resist the urge to stab him right then and there. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Grip tightening on my sword, I growl impressively—I've been around Inuyasha too long—and demand once more, this time not bothering to keep quiet, "WHERE ARE THE HOSTAGES?" I'd hate to just kill these bastards and never be able to find them; it'd probably result in more deaths and questioning from the police, which wouldn't help my current situation in the least.

The greenest just snickers, stepping out in front of Jiro to look me in the eye. I glare right back at him, challenging him to move any closer. And yet, with a few steps towards my figure, he taunts, "And what are you planning to do with the hostages, _yariman_?"

Following that comment, steam nearly flies out of my ears; the bastard doesn't even know me, and he's already making accusations, showing just how much of an asshole a demon can be. Without thinking, I charge ahead, feeling my heart thud harder as adrenaline pumps in my veins, but two searing rips in my thigh and stomach make me choke on my courage as I grab my newfound wounds, adjusting to the pain as two kappa lick my blood off their knives. Keeping my breathing level and my glaring eyes trained on them as I back away clumsily, I don't look away even when a soft thud below the floor catches my attention, but doesn't faze the kappa, meaning I've just unintentionally found my answer. If the victims are down below in the flooring or crawl space, that means all I have to do is defeat the kappa, widen the vents, maybe disrupt most of the tiles, and send all their captives back home.

Now, if only I could figure out how to take down multiple kappa at once without using all of my spiritual power…

_"__ATTACK!"_

The floorboards practically explode, and everyone—and I do mean _everyone_—screams when multiple figures break through the panels and tiles covered in dust and filth. I quickly note how short the figures, these _people_, are before they charge at the kappa with sharpened planks. Despite the people—these kids, the hostages—reaching up to my chest at the most, they're taller than the demons nearby and have longer weapons, giving them an advantage over the kappa. Oh, and not to mention, they're healthy and well since kappa don't like to starve their food, and they're not bleeding from the gut and leg.

…I wish I were them.

As if they've received training and know exactly how to handle these type of demons, the kids charge at the kappa, our enemies, while I back away and rest against the opposite wall, still in shock over their arrival. Are these truly the captives? If they are, why did they stall their attack? How did they learn to fight like this in the first place? Should I jump in and help despite my condition, even though they seem to be handling the situation better than I might ever will?

I let the questions wash over me, churning my insides from guilt and worry, even as they are only cut shallowly and ticked with blunt stabs. And I notice that when you're injured, things happen to pass by faster than they actually do. I watch as Jiro's decapitated by one of the shorter kids, and the head kappa is stabbed in the heart by the resistance's leader, the tallest of them all. Most of them ignore my existence, focusing on their opponents as I struggle to stand and maintain my balance, and flinch when my fingers dig too harshly into my skin as I attempt to heal myself. It works for the most part, small cuts scarring over and returning to unmarred flesh, but for the really deep gash in my thigh and slight internal bleeding in my torso, things won't be going so smoothly.

Since I'm more intent on healing myself rather than watching the battle play out due to the fact that these kids somehow know what they're doing, I barely distinguish the shy footsteps approaching me. Only when a voice calls, "Onee-san?" do I register the silence of the room minus hushed humane whispers, signaling kappa's loss.

Realizing demon corpses are laying all around us, I regard the boy with a dark, scruffy ponytail with heavy, mocha eyes. The group of kids are right behind him, looking relieved and victorious, though by the way their hands are shaking, they must not be used to handling weapons or killing anything of any sort. This sort of throws my "experienced" tag out of the window, throwing me into a loop of confusion as I muse over the possibilities of them being able to defeat such nuisances. Not really sure what to say to the boy, their apparent leader, I glance over the kids and see some of them are injured, too. And since that'll be kind of hard to explain to their parents…

Gods-dammit. I always have to play the good guy, don't I?

One by one, the kids come up and I touch their wounds, releasing spiritual power and rubbing away any blood. And one by one, I explain to the kids what just happened and why all of this—the killing, kidnapping, and kappa overall—should be kept secret. I don't have the energy to knock them out like I usually do, and I don't have the time to look up where each one lives so I can sneak them into the house and pretend nothing ever happened. Judging by the leader's awed expression as he stands guards and I heal the others, he's either never seen miko before, never seen healings taking place before, never even knew miko existed, or most likely (due to the way he handled his weapon like a warrior) is surprised by the mere fact that I am a miko myself.

When the last kid has been healed and they're all in one group, the leader asks me, "You're a miko?"

I knew it. See? I have _skills_.

I nod, then try to heal myself once more, only to feel sparks of power. Translation: I've just used my powers on these kids. With an irritated sigh, I close my eyes and mentally slam my head into a wall.

Gosh dang it.

"And you're a slayer?" I guess. At his timid nod, I smile before glimpsing to the children around us. "And you'll help me return them home?" He nods again, and I exhale. "Great. Well, we better get going."

And at this, he smiles.

Before we leave, the leader and I sweep out the dust of the demon bodies, the other kids easily amazed by the corpses' random transformations into nothing but dirt as they watch us work with wide eyes. After making thick wads of paper towels and using the taijiya's hair-band to clip them around my thigh while I press the other roll to my stomach, we head out as one large group. (For safety reasons, we decided not to split into larger numbers—that, and half of the kids were terrified of being captured by another demon.) Conversation is clipped and short for the most part, since we're mostly sleepy and exhausted and the kids have probably just experienced an emotional roller coaster ride from being held captive. Some of them must've made friends while hiding, because they exchange numbers and addresses while the leader and I trudge forward, listening to their directions on where to go. We return the youngest home first since the oldest would be better fighters if we come along creepers, and better actors if we're confronted by police for being out this late.

I watch with a smile as the slayer slyly flips open one kid's bedroom window's lock, and they're allowed to climb inside, close their window, and sneak in under the covers. We'd already made an excuse for their random return: They'd wake up, tell their guardians that the killer suspected of kidnapping them had been beaten by some mysterious heroes, and they didn't remember anything after the killer's defeat. This way, their leader and I aren't on anyone's radar since adults would never push children on what they remembered or not due to post-traumatic stress disorders and other possible consequences of pushing their brain too far. As I mess with my alternative bandages some more, the two-front-teeth-missing girl quickly leaves her bed after climbing in, running to the window and giving the slayer a kiss through the glass. He blushes crazily before she even turns around, and I amongst others have to hold in our chuckles.

Slowly, the group disperses as we escort kids home, and all the while, the ponytailed boy is sending me worried glances. He'd tried to convince me to go home first due to my bleeding, but after I assured him it was nothing, that I'd been through much worse than this, he finally relented. And now that very few kids are left, they begin whispering to each other, the taijiya and I breaking our silence at the front of the group as well. He asks me, "So, what's your name, onee-san?"

"Kagome," I answer, though nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk turns my response into a grunt. I turn to him, taking in his mocha eyes. "And you?"

His gaze drifts from me shyly to the direction ahead. "Kohaku."

"Nice to meet you, Kohaku," I murmur as I notice my bleeding has stopped.

A small smile forms across his young face. "Nice to meet you, too, Kagome."

_He kind of reminds me of Souta. _I blink for a moment before returning the smile confidently because, to be honest, it really _was_ nice meeting him.

We're silent as we help an eleven-year-old into his second-story room, and after he's gone to bed, I remove my paper towels and grasp them tightly in one hand as we head to the last house. The sun's starting to rise by now, my legs are starting to strain from all the work I've put on them by walking and fighting, but Kohaku doesn't look the least fatigued. I ask him about it, and you know what he says?

"I'm never tired."

Well, holy freaking crud. _Now _I'm jealous of him, especially when he gives me a bewildered look, as if he's never even _thought_ of being tired. I mean, this is just horrible for me, a taijiya/yougisha/youkaihanta/miko/reibai/gekkahyoujin/student/medical-worker. Hells, the amount of my titles should be enough to describe my tiring life.

I huff, and he just smiles in return.

"You know," he says casually, "I heard there's been some paranormal activity down by this one historic shop at the eastern side of town called Feudal Antiques." I glance at the last kid who's yards ahead of us, and upon seeing the coast is clear of anyone eavesdropping, I nod for him to continue. "The media's been dodged, but neighbors are saying the shopkeeper's daughter's eyes won't close—and she hasn't woken up."

"She's asleep," I repeat, "and her eyes are open?" He nods, and I summon a mental picture of the situation. "How long has this been going on?"

Kohaku's lips twist for a moment as he thinks before murmuring, "Two weeks, probably."

If I'd been drinking coffee, it would've spattered all over the place at that moment.

"Two weeks?" I hiss in shock. "I mean…didn't her family bother calling for any help? That's pretty serious, not waking up with your eyes open in two whole gods-damned _weeks_!" Kohaku slivers away from me when my voice coarsens, and I sigh, realizing I must've looked angry at him. In order to reassure him, I mutter, "Thanks for telling me; I'll check it out and probably give her relatives some bops on the heads while I'm at it."

The mental image of Inuyasha wailing on Shippou, of course, does not fail revisiting me during this time, and I shiver before getting irate with the hanyou all over again. However, Kohaku's realized I didn't mean any harm towards him, and slowly slinks back to my side, making me beam gratefully. I'm not sure how he found out about this new incident, but one thing's for sure: I can trust him, this boy who reminds me of my brother and helped saved many young lives tonight. So, I'll check this _Feudal Antiques _place out; there's bound to be something weird going on there to start rumors like these.

In a short while, the last kid enters his room alone, since he's the second tallest presumably, and once his window clicks shut, I exhale noisily. Kohaku offers courteously, "I could walk you home now, if you want." I raise an eyebrow, and he blinks before sputtering, "I mean, uh, if that's fine with, well, you know—"

"It's fine," I assure him hurriedly, not expecting him to get nervous over just a raise of the eyebrow. He really is quick to conclusions, isn't he? "I just thought you'd want me to walk you home first; that's all."

"Oh." He blinks, as if that were the last thing on his mind. Then he mumbles shyly, "Well, you know, I don't mind walking you home."

I bite my lip and shake my head, holding in a chortle at his offhanded behavior. "I live at the Higurashi Shrine," I tell him as we start walking again.

After receiving my address, he seems to perk up a little. "You mean where the legend of the Shikon no Tama is sacred?" he questions, and I nod. He smiles a bit, though it fades almost instantly. "I used to hear about that story a lot," he tells me, "with the hanyou, miko, and jewel that could grant any wish." A weird light hits his suddenly grave eyes, making my stomach flip. "It's also kind of sad."

Though I don't know what he means, I nod anyways. "Yeah," I agree. I guess he's referring to Inuyasha's sealing and being eaten by the tree overtime, since not much is gloomy besides the miko's death. "Then again, a lot of things are sad without us knowing it," I tell him absently.

He looks at me for a moment, as if I know something more than I actually do, before turning back to the sidewalk before us. "Yeah."

I nibble on my lip for a moment, musing over the tale of the Shikon no Tama. Inuyasha wanted the Shikon Jewel for something, so he broke into the temple, stole it, fleeing the village… The miko—Kikyou?—protected the Shikon no Tama, cared for Shippou's spirit and body, and on the night of the full moon, pinned Inuyasha to the Goshinboku… Releasing my lip from my teeth, I decide I need to talk with Inuyasha further on the subject of the jewel, since it has too many holes for any solidity. Of course, I'll have to take care of that whole soul mate situation with Jii-chan and Kaede-baachan, Tsuyu and Nobunaga, and Sango and Miroku, too—

Wait: Miroku's part of the _Shikon_…

Aw, _dammit_!

How did I not connect _Shikon no Tama _and _Shikon Five_ before? What the hell—?

"And, you know," Kohaku continues, chocolate eyes hazing over, "sometimes the saddest things are what make us so strong in the first place."

I stop slapping myself on the head mentally, popping back into reality and remembering this is a somber moment. "Yeah," I whisper again, coughing to cover up my lack of attention on the subject.

The streetlights turn off as the sun rises higher, and after taking one look at Kohaku's solemn face, I suddenly am whipped back in time, back to the _Cream_ concert with my parents holding onto my hands. The night where we swung and swayed together, singing along like idiots, my mother high off life and my father tipsy from sake as my vocal cords reached their limits and felt like snapping off. But I was so happy, none of that mattered, though I did wish my little brother was there to see one of the best family moments I'd ever known.

The last I'd ever known.

Thank Kami he wasn't there.

"And maybe…" Kohaku pauses for a moment, expression softening as he looks awed toward the sky and a chilled breath escapes me. "Maybe when we're too strong, we forget we're human? That we should be soft, and not so strong? Or maybe watch our strength before we lose our humanity along the way? Or maybe become too sad, that we lose our strength, and become too soft?

"But… Isn't being soft part of what makes you strong?"

As his words digest, I find myself smiling, even if it's only a poignant tilt of the lips. "Yes," I murmur, adding, "you're absolutely right, Kohaku-kun." I lightly pat him on the back, nearly making him jump out of his jeans from fright. Chuckling nervously at his reactions and resisting the urge to dodge roll in front of a bus for frightening him, I ask tensely, "So, where do you live, anyways?"

He smiles kind of forlornly. I take in stride, though, since it just seems to be a part of his nature. "Not too far from here."

"Oh!" I gasp, grinning madly. "In that case, I'll just take you—"

"WENCH!"

Damn.

"Never mind," I mumble, gaze already on the furious yuurei on top of the shrine steps. Seeing his bared fangs and glaring gold orbs, I shout back at the top of my lungs, "WHAT?" just to piss him off.

And judging by his ears flicked to his skull and his even more furious expression, I've succeeded. "You disappeared in the middle of the fucking night with no note or nothin'!" Inuyasha rages, waving his arms like a mad man (or half-demon). "What the _fuck_?"

Man, you gotta love how his mouth is _so _dirty, he could star in Orbit commercials.

"Why should you care?" I snap back, avoiding his grammatical errors only to have a flustered _keh! _in return. I growl impressively, overlooking the shining of his silver hair against the dawn as I swiftly turn to apologize to Kohaku for our behavior.

Then I blink, my whole night becoming a mystery in a second as I freeze where I am, suddenly lost in thought.

"Wench?"

I nearly pee myself when Inuyasha suddenly speaks up, and turn to glare at him, though my glower dies on the spot. His face, the way his jaw is loose and his ocher eyes sharp around the edges with pure, smooth honey inside as he steps closer, and his lips reach my gaze. Am I really that short? "Are you okay?" he asks in a serious yet uncharacteristic manner, and for a moment, his ghostly breath beats against my warm cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed as those same, provoking lips twitch to a small, relieved smile…

I'm really confused. Is this Inuyasha?

His eyes snap open, giving me a look that screams _I'm torn between being pissed and concerned_, and then his lasting, tense gaze wanders down to my lower half, where I'm still clutching my wounds. He tenderly reaches out, my grip on myself lost as he takes my wrists in his hands, inspecting my palms and fingers carefully before gazing to the exact spots I held, moving aside the hair-band on my thigh to access the damage. Total relief seems to wash over him as his broad, suikan-clothed shoulders droop as if relaxation has finally came. He murmurs again, almost in a hymn, "You're really okay," before releasing my wrists.

I just stare in bafflement as to why he's jumped from "could care less" to "you're okay (insert tears here)", then look down at my wrists and everything else, which are tingling with some sort of foreign electricity. I mean, whoa. Talk about a total shoujo manga moment.

Suddenly, as if never troubled in the first place, he gives me a piercing glare and barks, "Never leave like that again, you stupid bitch!"

…Never mind.

I raise an eyebrow and snip back, "And you're suddenly the boss of me?" Last time I checked, it was some food-obsessive Chinese legend in the sky, not a yuurei-inu-hanyou. Nice try, though. "I have a right to do whatever I want to as long as it stays in mostly legal boundaries, you know."

"Keh, leaving your brother and Shippou behind," he sniffs arrogantly, eyes poking me over his shoulder as he turns away, hands in his sleeves. I faintly note he really didn't reply to my question nor statement, which gets him a roll of the eyes. Oh, how clever he must think he is. "Really beneficial, huh?"

"Yes, actually," I inform him with furrowed brows, having reeled in my anger the moment it surged to prevent any yuurei-hanyou choking on its cinnamon scent. You really wonder why this guy always has to be so damn difficult, why he can't see the importance in me going over there. "I happened to save a lot of lives tonight, Inuyasha, most of them being captives of those kappa who—get this—were hiding out in the park _bathroom_, but some of those lives being the people at this shrine that could've snuck after me and gotten injured, too."

You know the best part of an argument? When your opponent gives you a dumb look as if they can't understand a word you just said. _That's _when you know you're winning.

As I silently rejoice, Inuyasha wonders, "Injured? What the hells…?" Deciding to go with the _pissed _option from earlier, he informs me in a not-so-polite way, "Bitch, you ain't even reeking of a paper cut."

I raise an eyebrow again at his bad grammar and accusation, then my gaze travels down to my shirt where…where…

There's no wound?

Eyes widening in surprise, I inspect my suit for any scratches at all, patting my thigh and stomach only to feel, well, nothing: no stinging or blood seeping through, only smooth leather. There's not even any blood on my hands, nor a bruise on my jaw from the rough fall I took earlier. I glance again to where Kohaku stood, where he'd disappeared the moment Inuyasha arrived, a warm amber sunset in his wake beginning at the very space he once consumed. Inuyasha yawns before climbing up the steps, occasionally glimpsing at me before scoffing, still acting like the bipolar jackass he is while I stay rooted to the sidewalk, confused about the mist Kohaku left behind, the sudden disappearance of my wounds, and Inuyasha's _nice _treatment towards me (probably due to that mysterious "birdie"). I finger Kohaku's hair-band still on my thigh, the only evidence of tonight, and remain lost in shock.

Dear gods, did I imagine it all?

"Higurashi-san?"

"AHHHH!"

"Sorry," Hojo Akitoki says, appearing embarrassed for frightening me as I try to regain my breath and calm my heartbeat. I glare at him somewhat, not being able to help myself. Dang, what's been up with people and scaring the life out of me recently? As if reading my thoughts, he assures me in a stutter, "I-I only came here to tell you n-now that I've been avenged, I'll be l-leaving now."

Oh. That he is.

Huh.

Once I manage a smile to chase away his anxiety, Akitoki's increasingly misty figure regards me with a bow and bright grin, and he thanks me again. Apparently, he's awed of my abilities to help others, especially those in his place: the stance between this world and the next. Instead of moving on, he repeatedly rambles about how thankful he is, probably feeling special for being saved. I decide not to steal his thunder and last memory—one he ironically spends with me, his brother's crush—by telling him he's just another lost soul I needed to assist, and instead play along with forced smiles. He goes on, "Why, if it'd not been for you, I'd probably be dead right now!"

…I'm not going to respond to that.

As amber drifts into topaz on the sky's canvas, the ghost gives me another bow before waving goodbye. And the moment he begins disappearing from head to toe, he manages to say one more thing:

"Don't forget your date with my brother!"

Then he's just air, and I'm left to tearfully muse over how naïve the Hojo clan is, but how they never forget a darned promise for others' sakes.

* * *

**A/N: **For those of you who don't know, _Kohaku _means "amber" in Japanese, hence the symbolic sunset where he stood. However, whatever could the mist resemble? :O I'm not sure how I feel about the InuKag moment, but I know many of you would appreciate even a small romance moment.


	9. She Whose Eyes Won't Close

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **Thanks to those who reviewed; I appreciate all your feedback. :) I know last chapter was confusing—it was supposed to be—so if you're confused, don't feel stupid; you just got punked by ol' purduepup. X3 Everything will be explained eventually.

Also, you can thank the wondrous Tomatosoup inc. for looking over this chapter for me; she helped me find Kagome's voice and organize a few parts. She's amazing, and I definitely recommend her fics! :)

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**Terminology**

**People/Names**_  
Yougisha_ –honorific for a criminal suspect  
_Jukeisha_ – honorific for a convict/offender  
_Keibu_ – honorific for a police inspector/captain  
_Reibai_ –spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"_  
__Youkaihanta_ –ghost buster, spirit hunter  
_Tanuki _– a raccoon-dog demon/_youkai  
Yariman _– "you whore" in Japanese; a girl who will go to bed with anyone  
_Onee-san_ – a child's polite way of addressing a young female stranger  
_Ookami_ – "wolf" in Japanese; however, Japanese wolves have been extinct since 1905  
_-kun_ – a honorific most often used for a teenage boy, sometimes for girls in the workplace  
_-chan_ – a honorific used for a teenage girl, little kids, childhood friends, or small animals

**Things****  
**_Suikan_ – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)  
_Suikan Kamishimo _– outfit composed of matching _hakama _and _suikan _(Inu's red clothes)  
_Shoji_ – a Japanese sliding door composed of a screen made of rice paper

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_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**9: She Whose Eyes Won't Close**_

* * *

"_I find I always have to write something on a steamed mirror.__"_

—Elaine Dundy

* * *

I knew with this morning's sunrise, a beautiful day was upon us, especially for a day taking place after a funeral. The trees seemed greener than usual, the leaves more lively, almost like nature was thanking me and the kids-turned-wonders for annihilating those irritating, disgusting, little youkai. As I walked to school with Souta by my side earlier today, people were out on the streets and basking in the sunshine as if it'd go away in a short while, a nearby market bustling with business and the restaurants we passed before now stocked with customers. Even Souta had a bounce in his step the moment we slid out the door with ease, deciding to give Jii-chan some time to sleep in, and I nearly had a heart attack when Shippou greeted me energetically whereas Inuyasha managed to be more talkative and even more annoying than usual as he followed me around all morning.

However, unlike everybody else—to be absolutely and painfully blunt—I probably look shitfaced and ready to collapse.

Translation: I'm having trouble staying awake in my currently Kouga-less class.

It seems my head has a magnetic attraction to my desk, and my eyes have glazed over. Not only have my eyes gone hazy due to the oil on my skin and lack of moisture, but I smell like a fresh, walking bottle of perfume since it was the only way for me to smell nice without running late for school. I'd gotten home at six in the morning, barely the time to go back to bed and shower before leaving for school around seven. I'd just changed into a clean uniform and made breakfast for Souta and I, the prior receiving a death glare when he walked down the stairs, yawning, obviously having gotten a good night's rest. This left me little to do to prepare myself for school, to say the least.

As my head sways forward and back repeatedly, torn between lying down to nap and sitting up to actually learn, Inuyasha shows no concern as he keeps complaining about the smells and noises of high school, and most importantly, how much the perfume Tsuyu gave me for my last birthday "stinks ass". I'm so tired, I let it slide (even when he says he's had enough and plans to go haunt the biology lab, which I also let go), and I'm so out of it that as I walk home without Souta (who's managed to snag a new friend), I almost don't acknowledge some guy calling out my name.

_Almost_—because when a hand touches my bottom, I feel more alert than I have the entire day.

Letting out a shriek, I backhand the perpetrator before my sleepless self realizes the offender had been Miroku of the Shikon Five.

And now I can see why Yue-Laou said he was a pervert, though his first attempt at feeling me up should've been a big clue.

"My apologies, Lady Kagome," he grunts, rubbing a dark red handprint on his cheek as he meets my gaze honestly, "but I only wished to seek your interest for a moment." Once I glare at him, he hurriedly explains, "You would not respond to your name being called, or the taps on the shoulder I gave you."

…really? I didn't even notice.

Staring at said body part in suspicion, I screw a fist into one of my eyes as I beat a yawn. "Better make it quick," I tell him sleepily, "before the pavement becomes my new mattress."

Despite his violet eyes revealing some amusement, Miroku looks rushed right then and there, as if I've suddenly put him under pressure. I study the sidewalk warily, wondering how comfortable it'd be to snooze on, on a scale of one to ten. I'm so fixated with the sidewalk—_I'm thinking maybe…three? Four? Eh, good enough_—that I almost miss his hurried explanation.

"…come with me and meet them."

…alright, so I did miss it.

"What?" I grumble, feeling my eyelids grow heavier by the moment. "I don't speak gibberish, good sir. Let sleeping dogs lie."

Did that just come out of my mouth? Dear Kami—prior to what I initially believed, I really, _really _need sleep to function.

"What?" Miroku responds, confused, and I only stare at him blankly. Shaking his head, he repeats—and I listen very carefully for this, mind you—"I told my team about you the other day, and they've gained interest in your abilities; we think you might be able to help with a few missions. We'd been having issues with the sewer youkai Mistress Centipede for months, and you took her down in less than ten, maybe even five minutes. We'd been doing research like crazy and—"

I stop listening. Meh, if it's important, I'll get scolded for it and move on.

He must've finished because a silence ensues where I gaze at him blankly, and he just stares back at me with a perplexed look, as if trying to figure me out. Then, almost smiling, he asks, "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"None," I yawn, rubbing at my eye again. It doesn't really help my attention span when my eyes begin to droop and, like now, begin to close.

Miroku stares for a moment longer, his indigo eyes blinking.

I begin to tilt.

Luckily, before I hit the pavement and flail like it's nobody's business, something whacks my neck, black spots coat my vision, and I go limp. And, surprisingly, I only think one thing before fainting:

_Don't go to sleep—if you do, Inuyasha's sure to fuck something up!_

Whoops.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

I wake up to my stomach being jabbed repeatedly into a broad shoulder, and faintly recognize the rat's tail and my new school's male uniform before I realize what's happened. Although I appreciate Miroku's forcing sleep upon me and trust this monk's intentions, the thoughts of what could've happened while I was unconscious make me see red, especially since my backside is probably in his peripheral vision.

After kicking and punching his torso for a good amount of time, I give up, tired since I used up some of what little energy I have. I'm somewhat impressed with how well he took my struggles perfectly in stride, but upon recalling how I've had my stomach torn about three times this week, the admiration pretty much dies instantly. However, even though I just used some of my energy, I'm more awake than I've been all day, which I'm grateful for.

I don't remember much from Miroku, being that our first encounter was during a fight. I remember he smiled a lot, even with a wound in his stomach, and he didn't want me to waste my time giving him medical treatment (of the doctor or miko kind). So once I've gone motionless, scanning our surroundings for any familiar landmarks, and he speaks, I try to listen since I'll have to play matchmaker for him soon and it'd be nice to know my client.

His voice teasing me as he asks, "Are you alright now, Lady Kagome, or do we have to dump you off on a bench so you'll have enough sense to pay attention?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll be alright," I mutter dryly, narrowing my eyes when spotting a bookstore that's popped into my memories a few times. Resting an elbow on his back to relieve some pressure from my stomach, I ask, even though I already know the answer, "We're heading to Shikon Five headquarters, aren't we?"

It doesn't take a genius to know he's smirking like Kouga did at my observation skills. "Yes, we are," he confirms, his grip on me loosening as he gradually slows to a stop. He sets me down carefully, his hands fortunately at my sides, and I nod in thanks, understanding that this is where I begin walking. Honestly, I'm grateful for the fact that he even bothered to let me rest for a bit, and at that, carry me the whole time. However, I'll admit I'm a bit surprised my stomach doesn't flip like it would with other schoolgirls under the same situation.

Before he can make some perverted comment about how "as much as he loved carrying me and being so close", I decide to start the interrogation game. "What is the Shikon Five? Or more specifically, _who_?" I ask as I double-check that all my weapons are present and strapped securely. After all, while bouncing on someone's shoulder, even things tied around your waist and arms have a chance of falling and getting lost.

Miroku glances at me inquisitively, taking in my activities probably, before shrugging nonchalantly, a friendly smile glued on to his charming face. Unknowing of how my conscious again settled for thinking _Inuyasha's face is hotter (but much less charming)_—bleh—he goes on to answer me, his eyes wandering over our surroundings. "A group of four people and myself, probably, hunting demons and trying to keep Tokyo alive," he answers with a sly grin.

Oh, great—a comedian. I let out a falsely amused laugh. "Haha, hoho, ha. You're so funny," I reply wryly, then add mentally, _Not_.

Grin widening at my sarcasm, he says in a somewhat more serious voice, "You wouldn't believe it, but there's really just four of us. A monk, being myself, a taijiya trained especially for youkai-slaying, my tanuki assistant, and a demon who is our messenger between the demonic society and—"

"Wait," I interrupt, something clicking in my mind as my attention turns away from my chipped pocketknife and towards his curious, bemused expression. "Demonic society? As in, a youkai-based community or organization with only youki beings taking part, disguising themselves as humans to fit into the natural world?"

Miroku blinks a few more times, probably wondering why I'd ask. "Why, yes; I believe so," he answers slowly. _Well, _I think stoically, remembering the incident in the school infirmary yesterday, _that explains enough._ "Like taijiya and youkaihanta, the demonic society doesn't wish to be represented negatively, which is why we've teamed up over the years to rid the world of jyaki and evil yuurei, though we are more focused on the 'evil youkai' portion of the job." Eyes widening as if realizing something, Miroku turns to me with a surprised expression. "You mean you didn't know all of this before?"

I'd love to lie and pretend as if it were old information, but instead I shake my head. "The only time I've ever spent at taijiya headquarters was for free training and weaponry," I tell him truthfully, and he nods his head, _ahhing _as if my words explain it all. "The very small station in Kyoto offered me numerous positions as miko, reibai, medium, and so on, but I turned them down each time since I prefer doing my own cases."

He smiles, showing that he's interested and listening to me, and his eyes meet mine with an amused sparkle in them. "And how has that been working out for you?" he wonders, nearing the Shikon Five building already.

"The last few times I did my own cases," I begin sordidly, nose twitching, "ended with me getting kicked out of Kyoto and undergoing major sleep deprivation." _Not to mention questioning my sanity, _I don't add. Damn—the whole thing with Kohaku still confuses me. I have the bracelet as proof that it happened, but besides my memories of last night, that's all the evidence I have. Sure, I could track down the kids taken captive by the kappa if I _really _wanted to, but would be worth bringing back bad memories and blowing off our cover to their parents?

No, it wouldn't be. Even though I want my questions answered like most detectives do, I don't want to cause any more problems while doing so.

"I see," Miroku says wisely, nodding in that understanding way again with a permanent grin plastered on his face. Then, his gaze widening once more, he questions curiously, "You're from Kyoto? And this is why you've been loopy all day—did you go on a mission last night?"

Rolling my eyes lightly at all his questions, I just nod in response. I can trust Miroku with this information, especially when it involves Kotatsu; a taijiya would never rat out another to the authorities, not even if their reputation is at stake. It's simple law in the youkai-slaying community and one of the few guidelines I learned back at the small Kyoto station. "Yes, I'm from Kyoto," I answer, turning my head away to look around the area again. "And yes, I have been out of it all day because I came home around six o'clock in the morning from a mission."

After he proves to me he's still listening, Miroku enters the alleyway where we met, stopping in front of the side door and glancing at me, as if I should signal when and if he should enter. Having the strongest urge to roll my eyes again—it's becoming a habit in his presence—I gesture towards the building, and he raps on the door a few times in an irregular rhythm. And then, after closing his eyes, widening his smile, and taking a deep breath, he sings.

And I mean, he _sings_.

"OH, _little orb shining so bright_, WON'T YOU GUIDE MY SLAY TONIGHT—"

I quickly pale in embarrassment. _Oh, dear god._

The door whips open, and we're ushered inside by a girl wearing an all black and red spandex suit. Once the door is shut firmly behind us, I stand off to the side as she smacks Miroku upside the head, cursing him for singing again—apparently, it's not a group routine—and he turns sheepish under her attention. After I note how easily it is to read Miroku, Sango turns to me, regarding my appearance with critical, near-magenta eyes.

How do I know it's Sango? By the red string connecting her and Miroku, of course.

She has bright, healthy skin that reminds me of Tsuyu's, hinting that she spends more time inside than she does outside. Dark brown hair resembling a near-black tumbles down to her waist in a messy ponytail sleeked with sweat and oil, giving off the image that she must've been working out or, because of her slayer outfit, training. I meet her eyes, and when she returns the fervor, I know she's challenging me as I am her. It's a technique to see who you have to be careful around and who you can trust, so when her eyes soften and she nods, I know she's approved of my presence in her taijiya headquarters. She smiles and I return the gesture, thinking it's nice to meet someone as cautious about people's character as I am, before she frowns again once Miroku speaks.

"My dearest Sango," he groans, managing to sound just fine while rubbing his head, "this is Lady Higurashi Kagome, the miko who saved me the other day." I raise my eyebrow at the endearment tacked to her name whereas one of her eyebrows ticks, and she pinches his arm, making him flinch.

I wince and scoot away unnoticeably. If she treats him like this over the small things, I don't even want to know how she reacts to him knocking me out.

After he yelps and I'm left wide-eyed at how many times she's hurt him already, she turns to me, bowing deeply in respect. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Higurashi-miko-sama," she says so genuinely, I actually feel somewhat flustered. I'm not used to being treated respectfully as a guest; I'm usually in such a hurry, I don't have time for formality, and if I have to use formality, it's with my educators and interviewees, not someone young. It makes me wonder what I've done to earn such respect, especially since we've just met.

Hesitantly but surely, I return her bow and greeting, mumbling something about just calling me by my first name. She smiles, nods in return, and asks, "Do you wish for tea?" Thinking of the hanyou that could raiding the city right about now, I shake my head vigorously, but Miroku nods eagerly, making Sango glare at him before moving a shoji screen and emerging into the back.

I give Miroku a quick glare for contradicting my words, but he shrugs helplessly. "Sorry," he says sheepishly, "I couldn't help it."

"Couldn't help it", my ass.

"Sango's tea is just to die for," he insists with a promising smile, not a trace of doubt in his eyes. "Trust me—you haven't lived until you've tried it."

I blink, noting how he can daze one girl while complimenting another, and then nod my consent to his actions. After Miroku and I take our seats in the traditionally-styled Japanese room—and I glare at him for a few more minutes—Sango comes in with our tea, setting it down on the table before us. Since we're nowhere close to the original attire for a tea ceremony, nor are we experiencing the pace or traditions of one, we just talk and sip our tea.

After I take my first sip, my eyes widen at the accuracy of Miroku's words, but when I look at him to confirm, yes, Sango's tea is legendary, he's focused on the tea's maker. "Do you know of Hachi's whereabouts, my sweet Sango?" Miroku wonders aloud, unbuttoning the first clip of his school uniform for what must be comfort reasons.

I observe silently as Sango twiddles with one of her side bangs, avoiding his eyes as he undoes the clip and even letting the endearment slide. "I'm pretty sure he said something about getting supplies…," she mumbles with a blush, taking a short sip of her tea. It's still warm, so she cups it in her palms as she continues. "I don't even know where Ookami is—probably womanizing, like a certain someone we know." She turns to me, smiling politely, missing the way Miroku's grin finally wavers for the first time. I internally wince, feeling some sympathy for the guy, but Sango remains clueless as she insists gently, "Please, Kagome-sama, do tell us about yourself."

I blink once, then blink again at her formality, especially the high honorific. "What?" I say blankly, feeling a bit like Yue-Laou is telling me all over again about that damned quota that didn't exist until recently. What's there to tell about myself? Also, why is a teenager speaking so formally when she just shamelessly bonked her soul mate on the head a few moments ago?

And then it hits me, the realization that Sango's not a teenager—but much older.

I can now see it in the way she holds her cup, gracefully and preciously as if she's been trained to do so in the girls' Home. Ec. class at my old school instead of the sort of clumsy way a younger woman would. Her fingers are long and slim, holding that elegance refined ladies usually do, and her neck and shoulders are perfectly sloped enough to her chest that you can tell she's finished puberty for good, and her body won't be making any changes anytime soon. Mostly, I can tell by her face, the sharpness of her eyes and how each feature is defined like she's had years to perfect the look.

As weird as it is to realize this, at this moment, she reminds me of Mama and Tsuyu.

For a few seconds, I'm a bit stunned not only because of the resemblance, but since I expected her to be my age, maybe even younger than that. Managing to recover, I stumble in my head, searching for the words and struggling to say something. "Oh, um…" Dammit. When was the last time I had an actual conversation with a woman outside of my family and school, especially when that woman knew the horrors of death? It's easy to talk to girls who don't know that you've seen horrible things because then you just pretend to be normal, like everybody else—but just being your usual jyaki-slaying self? That's more difficult than you'd think. "I'm not sure what to say," I admit, my mouth twisting in a small frown. "What has Miroku told you?"

As if my awkwardness isn't an issue at all, she takes another sip of tea. "He's told me about how you're new in town, attending his high school, you saved him in the alleyway two days ago, and how your skill exceeded his own, especially with an enemy we've been tracking for months and one you've probably had no experience with," Sango informs me all in one breath.

Mind. Officially. Blown.

In confirmation to the "no experience" part, I nod slowly, and when I give Miroku an odd look for claiming I'm better than him, he explains with a genuine smile, "I'm honest, not stupid, Lady Kagome. I'm not afraid to admit when someone is more talented than me." Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he continues, "Of course, in the good looks category, I exceed everyone except San—"

"So," Sango cuts in, her face a tomato when she smacks him upside the head, and I briefly question if Yue-Laou's officially gone on crack. "After he gave me a detailed report of your combat with Mistress Centipede, I wanted to see if you could help us with a few cases."

Automatically catching on that Sango must be team leader of this unit—especially with that serious business voice—and recruiting me as that fifth member they must need, I cut in. "Oh, no," I say before she can go any further. They turn toward me questioningly, and I shake my head violently. "No, no, no, no, _no_. No. I work alone. No help whatsoever. I repeat: A-L-O-N-E."

"That spells _alone_," Miroku tells her jokingly, still trying to play comedian, and I furrow my eyebrows at his comment. Was that supposed to be funny? He quickly shrugs it off with a grin, though I notice he scoots a foot away from our little triangle, which is still not enough distance to escape Sango's governing fist.

As he's rubbing his cheek again, now hissing a bit in pain, Sango turns to me, this time her eyes more stern. "Why do you work alone?" she inquires. She doesn't sound angry that I've turned down her implications at cooperation—just honestly confused or curious as to why I wouldn't want to be a part of the team.

"Why wouldn't I work alone?" I counter back, raising an eyebrow. "Hunting evil yuurei and youkai is a personal commitment I've made; I'm not interested in being part of a society and spending the rest of my life doing this."

"You mean you've never been part of a society?" she asks, astounded as she finally sets down her tea.

I follow suit, though I really, _really _liked the tea. "Not exactly," I tell her, thinking back to the nameless faces who'd taught me hand-to-hand combat and treated me as if I were one of their own. "I've stumbled across a few, obtained free weapons and training in Kyoto, and have been associated with some, but I've never exactly _joined_ one. I've always done solo work: obtaining cases from gossip, newspapers, reports, police—"

"Police?" both Sango and Miroku echo, sounding curious.

…Shit.

Mentally berating myself for that lapse of stupidity, I clarify, "I used to listen in on the Kyoto Chief of Police's conversations with other policemen on killings for an even bigger scoop." Sango's expression now turned from astonishment to pure awe, I add hurriedly in order to avoid any misunderstandings, "I mean, I planted a bug in his office so I could hear—"

Wait, that didn't sound better.

_Dammit…!_

How stupid am I, really? Just because you can trust slayers with information doesn't mean you should reveal _everything_. One more strike, and I'm out of here.

"Nobunaga Keibu?" Miroku finally speaks up, and I about die on the spot. "You mean the leader of the Open-Heart Case that was solved just recently thanks to a mystery woman?"

"Hold on," Sango says, getting excited. "_You're _the mystery woman, aren't you?"

It's official: I'm out.

I'm such a bad, bad yougisha. I should leave while I can. Just rush out the door, out of this city, and never look back. I mean, I could always sick Inuyasha on them if he ever goes into that weird full-demon phase again…

How I wish.

"Oh, wow," Sango murmurs as Miroku whistles in dismay. "I'm guessing that's the reason you moved here from Kyoto? To avoid the police?"

I nod slowly, regretting not getting enough sleep to at least maintain my cover, much less letting my façade down and letting these taijiya know. Even though slayers would never rat each other out, putting such a large risk out there where people could realize we exist is not praised at all.

This is why when Sango's face now radiates total admiration, I feel I'm missing some very important, key detail.

"You… Oh, wow," she says again, her cheeks turning red for some reason. "People have been trying to track down the murderer of that case for months. Did you know that?"

"Probably not," Miroku mutters good-humoredly as he puts his cup to his lips, then narrowly avoids being whacked with an empty tea pot, courtesy of Sango.

Automatically steering back to our original topic, she continues as if he hadn't said anything at all. "You're more advanced than our organization, maybe even others combined. You took down Mistress Centipede on your first try, defeated—Kotatsu Jukeisha, was it?—and you could've taken down the possible water demons at the pond near Midoriko High School for all we know."

…No comment.

"If you won't join our team," Sango says, excited stars in her eyes, "can we at least share cases and work together on a few things, for the sake of Tokyo?"

It doesn't take me long to answer, but I still think about it. I see the sharp teeth imbedding themselves in Miroku's sides again, I remember the tears my stomach has been through this past week (and the horrifying sights it's had to endure), I recall the kappa hanging me upside down beside a corpse, and I remember the amber sunset that may or may not have existed. And most importantly, I look down at blank pinky fingers and practically see Mama's obliviously happy smile radiating with warmth before everything faded to white.

"Sure," I answer, feeling just a bit better than my original sleepy self. "Why not."

Sango beams, and in turn, Miroku smiles as well—and it's now I can see the bond they have, despite the seemingly constant physical abuse and age difference. She overreacts to every little thing he does, but from the blushes I saw earlier, she enjoys it. Miroku doesn't seem to mind being hit, but being called perverted was a sore spot for him. _So…_ I perk up, ideas coming into mind. _Maybe there is hope for this couple after all?_

"Now, first of all," Sango begins, oblivious to my musings, leaning forward and resting her face in her hands, "I want to hear everything and every little detail about your resources, your missions, and your techniques—_everything_—starting with how you solved the Open-Heart Case…"

Looking up at the ceiling and praying for mercy, I sigh tiredly. This is going to be a _long_ afternoon…

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

"Yariman, huh?" Sango says, voice a little more than pissed. "At least you kicked him and his gang in the ass for that." I nod and go along with this since I'd already made a pact to not reveal the truth about last night—that I'd met some taijiya who may or may not have been a yuurei—as to avoid any future complications.

With grief in his eyes for the first time since I've met him, Miroku comments, "I'd heard reports that Hojo-kun's murder was unusual, but we didn't have enough evidence nor insight to make the case a top priority, much less investigate the scene." I frown, wondering what other cases they've possibly avoided when he explains tiredly, "Right now, we're trying to track down a serial killer who may as well be a demon and inspecting the supposedly haunted Himuro Mansion; our hands are a tad too full."

"Ah," I say, understanding that a society would be more concerned with the "big stuff" rather than the small demons who will only catch one or two victims. I sip my tea despite it being cold from the time that's passed and declare, "Well, I actually got a lead last night on a new mission. Feudal Antiques, on the eastern side of town—ever heard of it?"

Briefly and barely noticeable, Miroku and Sango's eyes meet, both revealing their surprise at my mentioning the store. Seemingly curious and stunned, Miroku says, slowly at first, "Yes; to support the Shikon Five financially, since you're not exactly paid to slay youkai, our antique shop is literally _an antique shop_. We have to make an actual living somehow, after all."

"Do you do business with them, or are they competition?" I ask, turning my total attention to them and ignoring my amazing tea after it begins leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I can only conclude it's fantastic when warm—and then gets sort of crappy when cold.

"They're business partners," the spiritual of the two tells me, then furrows his eyebrows as he grows concerned. "What's the lead about?"

I tell them straightforwardly, "The store keepers' daughter has been asleep for two weeks with her eyes open."

Miroku whistles in astonishment, and Sango's eyes widen, incredulous. "I remember meeting their young daughter, Hitomi-chan, from when we first became affiliates," the prior says. "Sounds like it could be a youkai of some sort, possibly a possessed relic in her room," he suggests, unconsciously assuming it to be a demon's doing, his being a taijiya rather than a youkaihanta. His eyes lift up to meet mine, and he asks considerately, "Do you need the address, Lady Kagome?"

"Yes, please," I say, appreciating his willingness to help.

He sits up, presumably to go write down the location of Feudal Antiques for me, but before he can, Sango shouts, "_No!_ I got this!" and takes out a pen and piece of paper from underneath the table.

Miroku and I stare in surprise as she scribbles it down before handing it over. Noticing our expressions, she narrows her eyes and snaps, "What?" as if we're personally offending her. Very out of character for a lady, but then again, most women don't go around killing off evil monsters, either.

Miroku shakes his head and looks away, an amused and adoring smile on his face while I glance away, suddenly realizing how even though that was strange, it was a bit rude to gawk. Since she's apparently my biggest fan alongside Souta, Sango asks if we could meet later during this week or month—whichever—and to just talk to Miroku at school if I want to come back to their headquarters. Though it's odd to see someone older than myself looking up to me, I agree to these terms, and without interrogating them back, leave their headquarters, deciding to save my questions for another time.

I thought it was going to be a long afternoon, and it was. It was very, _very_ long.

I groan once the door shuts behind me, preventing Miroku and Sango's waving figures from going after me. I would say it looked like I just escaped hell and I'd never be going back again, but considering I just promised to help them solve cases, I'll be seeing them a lot more now.

After establishing a system with the two Shikon Five members and brushing off my school uniform as if I just crawled out from under a fence, I walk down the street with the slip of paper in my hand, crumbled up by my fist. If I'd expected to get such an early lead on this new case, I probably would've brought some change for the subway to take me to the eastern side of the district. However, since I'm practically broke—especially while I'm unemployed—I'm stuck walking to the address Sango gave me. And if I'm lucky, the unemployment part will change and I'll hear back from Tenseiga Hospital about being a nurse under unregistered filing.

Since it's late afternoon, the sun is beginning to wane slightly, but not enough to cause that Tokyo sunset I observed from Goshinboku yesterday. Some businesses, such as a masseuse's and bookstore, are already closing up, and restaurants are taking in early customers for dinner. A few students from this side of the district are heading home, just having gotten out of school, and matching skirts sway in the slight breeze as a group of uniformed girls pass me, giving me a peek before walking on. I'm still wearing my own uniform, and I'm sure if attending schools further away wasn't so common, they'd be wondering why I was in their territory. Adjusting my yellow backpack and giving them one last look, I kick up my heels and venture further into the grooves of the street, looking for the store that's my destination.

"Where the fucking hell are you going, wench?"

I about jump out of my penny loafers. "HOLY—!" Oh, wait; it's just the inu-hanyou haunting my family shrine.

I feel _so _much better now.

And just in case you don't know, that was seriously heavy sarcasm just now.

"Why in the hells are you here?" I mutter none too gently, though keeping my voice low as to avoid receiving weird looks for talking to air. "And why aren't you keeping Shippou company?"

Inuyasha huffs, crossing his arms as he walks at an equal pace right beside me. "I just came back from terrorizing your science teachers and classmates," he answers quite bluntly, and I briefly pray for the poor souls who dealt with him today during the Science Club meeting. "Figured I'd sniff you out and just see what the fuck you were doing."

"Language," I warn him as I sidestep little kids laughing as they pass by. I know it's the billionth time he's said it in my presence, but really? He didn't even sound _annoyed _in that sentence. You at least have to have an excuse to use such explicit language.

…I'm probably a huge hypocrite now. Oh, well. Worse has happened.

Inuyasha huffs, mumbling, "You've said fuck before, too, dumbass."

"But not in a such a public place," I whisper, rolling my eyes slightly as I continue looking for the address. _Damn. _You think after five centuries of being surrounded by people, he would somewhat catch onto what's appropriate for what times. Who cares if only I can see and hear him? That doesn't make it right to go on cursing sprees on the street.

Expectedly, Inuyasha ignores me, instead approaching me and looking over my shoulder, as if trying to follow my line of sight. I step away, not liking the invasion of my personal space, and he automatically follows like the lost puppy he is.

_Haha_. Puns.

"Do you _mind_?" I hiss, swatting him off, pretending not to notice a passing mother and her child look at me in bemusement. Figures I'd be stuck with a bipolar hanyou who can't leave me be in public.

"What?" he snaps back, probably completely clueless as to why I'm frustrated. "I'm just trying to see why you're looking all over the place, wench. You lookin' for demons or somethin'?"

"Yes, actually," I say in my normal voice, this time receiving an odd look from an ice cream vendor and his young client. Cursing myself, I lower my tone. "Well, sort of. I got a tip from a local slayer"—_who somehow disappeared the moment you were about to meet him_, I don't add—"that there's a girl on this side of town who's been asleep for two weeks."

"Keh," Inuyasha says, "it's called being _dead_."

Really now? C'mon. I give him a blank look. "She's breathing."

He stops in his tracks for a moment before recovering. "Keh, it's called a _coma_."

Though I'm impressed that Feudal Hanyou knows that word, my face becomes even blanker, if possible. "Her eyes are open; they won't shut."

And finally, he gets it. "…Are you fucking serious?" This time, I take his cursing in stride and nod as a response. He blinks, his arms finally uncrossing as he ruffles his silver bangs, possibly thinking it over. "Could be a yuurei who's got unfinished business with her, uh, eyes," he suggests in a mutter, and I wince from how bad that came out. But hey, at least he's thinking of the cause instead of going on about how I'm a "FUCKING MIKO WHO CAN'T BE TRUSTED BLAH BLAH BLAH".

In the end, I outwardly shrug in response to his suggestion. I'd rather see the situation for myself before drawing any conclusions as to how this has happened.

A moment of silence passes over us, not too uncomfortable but not feeling so natural, either. It's only when I see the store that I break it. "We're here," I whisper, looking at the old and worn sign before glancing at Inuyasha, who's stiffened and seems to be standing alert. With narrowed, cautious eyes, he takes in the building structure made out of bricks with small, dusty glass windows while I enter the corner store, not bothering to leave the heavy door open for him since he can walk through it anyway.

A bell signals our arrival through the doorway, and a middle-aged woman looks up from the register. Despite her peppered and graying hair, her face doesn't have that many wrinkles, so she must be around forty—which exceeds my original expectation of some old coot. "Good evening," the woman greets us in a friendly voice, a smile easily appearing as she straightens up before patting at her apron. "May I help you?"

"Yes," I say smoothly, having played this part before: concerned acquaintance, but not prying. Caring, but genuinely curious. Acting's a big part of solving my cases, and ranging from being my own bait to gathering more information on the matter, I have different roles to play in the theater of the demonic and undead. Making sure to soften my eyes, show my worry, I ask timidly in a genuinely grounded voice, "Would you happen to be Hitomi's mother?"

Inuyasha sneezes from behind me, and I nearly jump again from the sudden intrusion to my psyche. While a blank look crosses over the store owner's face and her eyes fade from my question, as if retreating into her mind for answers, I quickly glare at Inuyasha, who in turn points at all the dusty shelves like they'd framed him. I turn back before the woman answers, her tone defensive, guarded, though her hesitancy and thin lips show me she's still unsure about whether she should trust me on the matter or not. "Why, yes; I would be. Who wants to know?"

"Higurashi Kagome, Midoriko High third-year," I answer, bowing in respect before my fibs begin. "My brother goes to school with your daughter, and he's been worried since she hasn't been in class. Since my brother had soccer club after school, I thought I'd come by and visit for him—and see if her reason for not being there was anything serious."

This must seem like a justifiable excuse to her because her tense shoulders loosen, and her lips turn upward in a grin once more. "Oh my," she says, perking up as if she were caught being a bad host. "In that case, please come to the back, Higurashi-san; make yourself comfortable while I make us some tea." She smiles, unaware as she leads us to her living room what my real intentions are.

I peel off my shoes at the entrance while Inuyasha goes ahead, his stride making me think _he _thinks he owns the place before he takes a seat on the worn-looking couch. I roll my eyes, but don't comment as I take a spot across from him on the sofa.

Another moment of silence has passed, and according to how slowly Hitomi's mother is making the tea, she must be planning to perform a more formal ceremony than I did with Sango and Miroku. I briefly ponder the silence's existence, since—before today—the only times there's ever been quiet moments between us is when a sunset and long staring contest took place. Tired of staring at the beige, stained, and fading walls of the family's obviously old store and apartment, I glance at Inuyasha, remembering last night when he seemed even more bipolar than usual. The stupidity in his voice as he yelled at me, the immaturity in his stance as he approached me, the worry in his eyes as he checked me for injuries, the warmth from his skin on mine…

Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Gaze unfocused, I blink rapidly, wondering if I really did just think that. I did, didn't I? Man—my train of thought just took a turn for the weirder.

"Oi!" His voice snaps me back into reality, where I'm not berating myself for even _thinking _of last night, and Inuyasha's glowering at me with those damned honey eyes, the permanent grimace on his face as always. "What the hell are you looking at, wench?" he snaps as if I've done him physical harm.

I roll my eyes. "Pff, with that kind of attitude, I wasn't looking at anything," I mutter, and receive a heated glare in return. Gah, it's not like I care about what he thinks of me anyway. The guy randomly goes from bipolar to hypocritical, if you think about it—hating a miko one day, actually being concerned for her the next. He shouldn't even be following me around right now, much less today and my first day at school. His eyes burning into mine for a moment, I keep my stance even when they randomly soften and he opens his mouth—

"Here's the tea!" the woman calls, and we're snapped out of our glaring contest. I briefly thank Kami for the intrusion, glad we were stopped before a human-to-air argument ensued, whereas Inuyasha glowers at her as well—why, though, I have no idea. At this point, I'm going to really try not to question it. She slowly pours me a cup, handing it over before taking her own. After I take a few sips, she says genuinely, "My name is Kazuko, and I apologize for greeting you so coldly at the doorway. It's just…a local newspaper heard about Hitomi, and they've been bothering us ever since."

Oh, please, ma'am. Don't apologize to me when I'm about to probably go youkaihanta in your household. "It's fine, Kazuko-san," I reassure her, grinning. I don't bonk her on the head for not seeking help like I promised Kohaku, given that she seems jumpy as it is. I stand up from the couch, about to set down my tea as I tell her, "I respect people's privacy, so if my being here bothers you even slightly, I will leave at this moment."

I'm in mid-stance when Inuyasha yells in shock, "WENCH!" his jaw practically hitting the floor. I merely look at him innocently. _What?_

"Oh, no!" Hitomi's mother rushes out, nearly falling out of her chair. "You're fine," she insists with flushed cheeks and a smile, "you're fine."

Win your hostess over with your respect and manners: Check.

"Alright then," I say, suppressing a smirk when my plan begins working out. Inuyasha merely huffs, crosses his arms, and leans back, shielding his eyes from the world while he probably takes a short nap (or tries to show his disinterest, which is obviously fake). I retake my seat, reclaiming my cup as I meet her eyes, trying to convey my concern and trust in my experience. "Why have reporters been interested in Hitomi's disappearance from school, anyway? It's not unusual for kids to not go to school; what makes this case so special?"

Everything seems to fall silent in the room. I remain patient as Kazuko fiddles with her fingers unconsciously, not meeting my eyes when her body stiffens. In a way, I don't mind waiting for an answer; interviewees tend to give more useful, elongated information when you give them time to respond.

While she's silent, I investigate the area without her knowing by trying to detect any youki or jyaki in the area other than Inuyasha's. I don't find any, however, meaning it can't possibly be a demon doing this to Hitomi. Now knowing we're dealing with a yuurei or some other supernatural force, I focus my gaze again on the woman's face and how she's slowly becoming sure of what she should say.

"My daughter…isn't sick, but something is wrong with her," she confesses, her eyes lifting from the tea set. "She's been asleep ever since her boyfriend died…"

Inuyasha perks up immediately, dog ears alert as his eyes snap open, and my senses sharpen while my attention heightens. Boyfriend, eh?

"Makoto-kun was a nice boy, very high-class and always giving her gifts, and I know my daughter loved him dearly… But ever since he passed away, she's been asleep—but not this normal sleep, like she refuses to get up and stop grieving. Her eyes are open, as if she's awake—but when I first tried to wake her up, nothing happened. When I couldn't get a response out of her, I checked her pulse—but she was fine, warm, alive." Kazuko closes her eyes for a short moment, breathing steadily as I lean forward, entranced by what I'm being told. "I was worried, but since my husband claimed it to be a youkai and began seeking an exorcist to seek out the item possessed, I was more concerned with getting food and water to my daughter. But…

"The moment I stepped through the door after the first day, I was attacked."

"Attacked…?" Inuyasha mutters as he regards her with furrowed brows before turning to me. "Think the spirit is malevolent?"

I give a small, almost unnoticeable shrug, focusing more on Hitomi's mother than my hanyou neighbor at the moment.

"I'd walk in with a bowl of water to slide down her throat when her books would race towards me in midair, as if trying to chase me away from the room. And for the life of me, with my daughter's porcelain doll collection in there, I was so afraid she'd lose something precious that I didn't bother entering again. My husband tried a few times and came out barely scathed. At that point, I just gathered our thinnest plates and slid those underneath her door in hopes she'd get the nutrition she needed."

"Have you checked on her at all?" I wonder in a murmur, honestly concerned for the poor girl.

She nods. "Every day, I peek in through the door crack, just to see her chest fall and know she's alright. But if the exorcists from a nearby shrine couldn't do anything…what can we?"

And it's the pure hopelessness and heartbreak in her voice that silences me, stopping any oncoming questions I'd thought of before. She faces towards a window, and I stare at the tea cup in my hands as if it's foreign, imagining how I'd feel in her situation while trying to put together the small pieces of information we'd gathered. Then, with as much strength as I can muster, I ask, "May I see her?"

She jumps as if she's struck by lightning. "You… I don't want you hurt, Higurashi-san."

"I'll be fine," I assure her, managing a comforting smile, "and I will help your daughter, Kazuko-san. I promise to bring her back to normal."

Her eyes widen, and she lets out an "O-oh!" She approaches me, her eyes flickering to a door nearby that is probably Hitomi's. "You really don't have to, Higurashi-san—it's dangerous, and it's nothing you should concern yourself with."

I turn to her, raising an eyebrow. _But it is, _I think before turning the knob and entering her daughter's room.

The moment Inuyasha and I are inside and shut the door behind us against Kazuko's protest, a shiver runs down my back as I spot a boy Souta's age with stylish brown hair and piercing eyes. However, he doesn't look at me as much as he does Inuyasha. And when he takes in the red suikan kamishimo, dog ears, white hair, and golden eyes—

"YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!"

We've been seemingly getting this reaction from a lot of ghosts lately. Hm.

Inuyasha growls, but I block him off as I consider the kid with stern eyes. When dealing with ghosts, it's best to be as gentle and rational as possible; do not hit any sore spots, do not throw any implications, and do not treat them like a villain. You need to sympathize, negotiate, and calm down the souls, not rile them up by making a stupid move. "You wouldn't happen to be Makoto-kun, would you?"

He glares at me silently, his gaze returning to Inuyasha and staying there as he scoots towards a girl with wavy, shoulder-length hair who I presume to be Hitomi. I silently note how he obviously doesn't have a red string, but Hitomi's is leading to outside, meaning she and Makoto were never meant to be together in the first place, before looking back at her again. Her eyes are blank, staring at the ceiling, and for a moment, I find myself entranced. Even when they're void of conscious, they're the kind that captivate your total attention.

"She has pretty eyes."

Oops. Did I say that?

The bookshelves rattle, making me jump and Inuyasha growl. A new fire raging in his eyes, Makoto snaps, "You have no right—!"

"Shut the fuck up and let your girlfriend go!" Inuyasha interrupts, possibly frowning even more deeply than before. The kid cringes, the demands extinguishing the blaze to a single candle, and I finally realize he's _intimidated _by Inuyasha rather than me.

Whoa.

Though it's a bit of an insult, I take it in stride as I step in front of Inuyasha, pushing him behind me. Ignoring the half-demon's incredulous look, I soften my gaze and whisper, "Makoto-kun, why are you still here on Earth?"

He actually seems a bit stunned I asked when he reels back, blinking rapidly and not meeting my eyes. I feel the room grow just a bit warmer, leading me to believe this won't be so bad after all. "I…I…" He gulps. "I never got to tell her…"

"What?" I question, stepping forward. "What did you never get to tell Hitomi-chan, Makoto-kun?"

His eyes snap towards me, and I freeze by the pure hate in them, feeling the atmosphere of the room quickly turn from tense waves to dark electricity, icicles practically growing on the windows from the chills I'm getting. _"How dare you speak her name!" _he screams, and I reel back from the force whereas Inuyasha steps forward, probably to calm him down. _"Don't you dare come closer!" _the kid yells, his eyes blackening.

I shield my face when a vase breaks, shards shooting out in all directions, one scraping my cheek and sending me to the floor from surprise. Wincing from the sting, I force out as kindly as possible, "Makoto-kun—"

Then I stop myself as I witness a pissed-off Inuyasha bonking the kid on the head in a similar fashion to a certain kitsune, and my mind reaches a blank.

Makoto repeats, "Ow ow ow ow—" as Inuyasha wails on him, and I'm left wondering how all the malice in the room has practically vanished and been replaced by pouting…just by beating on a kid like you would another.

Inuyasha picks up the kid by the tuff and observes him carefully, as if searching for any signs of resistance. "Keh," he mutters, throwing Makoto my way and making me cringe from the rough handling. "Apologize to her."

…apologize to me? "Eh?"

While I'm in shock Inuyasha would even consider that, Makoto bows quickly, pretty much groveling in front of my fallen form. "I'm s-sorry, onee-san," he forces out, shaken by Inuyasha's earlier treatment as said hanyou's foot begins to push onto his head, as if demanding further apology.

I blink. Well, that's another way to subdue a ghost.

I force myself to a sitting position, pushing off Inuyasha's foot and letting Makoto sit up again. "You're fine, Makoto-kun," I reassure him with a smile. "I just want to help you be happy." Even though I'm clueless to what he wants.

He nods unsteadily, then asks, "Am I in trouble?"

I resist another grin. "Of course not," I reassure him. "But I am going to visit you tomorrow, so could you be on your best behavior until then?"

Makoto hesitates, eyeing me warily, and I even see Inuyasha have trouble figuring out my intentions. "Alright," he promises under the hanyou's gaze, and I ruffle his hair in a sisterly fashion before standing up and exiting the room.

The store owner is twisting her hands in her apron, and by her tense body language, I know she overhead me addressing Makoto. With a resigned sigh, I meet Kazuko's questioning eyes, and she asks, "You're not the sister of one of Hitomi's classmates, are you?"

I look away. Damn. "Probably not," I confess, since for all I know, Souta could be in Hitomi's class.

It grows silent for a moment, and then she inquires, "You're coming back?"

"Yes," I answer. "Tomorrow, to be exact. I just need to gather a plan of what to do to help your daughter without bringing harm to her at the same time."

Kazuko nods. "Be careful," she tells me.

I smile reassuringly. "Always."

The moment the door chimes behind us, Inuyasha turns to me, one eyebrow raised and with a slight smirk on his face. "You are one scheming bitch," he comments, actually sounding impressed.

Ha. Guess he caught onto what I'm doing. "Part of the job description," I reply with a devious grin before walking ahead of him. I have to be conniving, anyway, for a difficult case like this.

Because, if not handled well, a ghost emotionally attached to a human being is the most dangerous one there is.

* * *

**A/N: **There you go. :| The longest chapter of _SoulMate _yet, 9,000 words and over 20 pages long— *fingers fall off* OH MY GOD. You're _welcome_.

I'm hoping to update _SoulMate _every Tuesday now, and next is _Chapter 10: "A Sight for Sore Eyes"_! Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! ^.^


	10. A Sight For Sore Eyes

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

**A/N: **Chapters are getting longer and longer, and I'm not sure I'm happy about this. T.T Oh, and sorry for the delay (as always), thank you for the reviews, and this chapter was looked over by Tomatosoup inc. You can thank her if it's any good. ;P

**Edit 12/17/11:** I went back and added a little bit to the ending, since it didn't feel like a conclusion. I'm not sure this other ending is any better, but if you're rereading this chapter or something, I'd love if you gave me your opinion on it. :)

* * *

**Terminology**

**People/Names**  
_Reibai – _spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"_  
__Youkaihanta__ – _ghost buster, spirit hunter_  
Ningen – _human being, mortal  
_Onee-san_ – a child's polite way of addressing a young female stranger  
_Onii-san_ – a child's polite way of addressing a young male stranger  
_-kun_ – a honorific most often for a teenage boy, sometimes for girls in the workplace  
_-chan_ – a honorific used for a teenage girl, little kids, childhood friends, or small animals

**Things****  
**_Youki – _typical demonic or _youkai_ energy/aura  
_Suikan_ – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)

* * *

_**SOULMATE:  
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?**_

_**10: A Sight For Sore Eyes**_

* * *

_"Life is nothing but a competition to be  
the criminal rather than the victim."_

—Bertrand Russell

* * *

I thought today couldn't grow any more interesting, but apparently, Kami never grows tired of proving me wrong.

After I make some coffee and put a Band-Aid on my cut, Shippou sits next to me at the dinner table, playing with the comics section of my newspaper when Souta enters the kitchen, dropping his backpack on the chair across from me before heading to the fridge. I raise an eyebrow at his lack of manners, and when he turns and realizes he never greeted me, the kid smiles sheepishly.

I roll my eyes. My ass, he feels guilty. "Hello to you, too, twerp. How was your day at school?" I ask him as I take a sip of the coffee I have yet to get used to. I continue flipping through the newspaper, hoping to catch anything that might be related to Hitomi's case, but I can't find anything.

Oblivious to my multitasking, Souta shrugs. "Eh, alright," he confesses, taking out a carton of milk and going to get a glass. "I met a lot of new kids who said the soccer club will let me join; I asked Sensei if it was alright during free period, and he said I could try out for the club Friday."

I nod, showing my approval of this since joining a club can lead to scholarships, which are always great for financially-challenged orphans. "During school or after?" I inquire.

Souta hesitates for a moment, probably wondering if lying would really help him at the moment, and he sighs when I give him a warning glare. "It's pretty late since Sensei has stuff to do before then, like train the team he already has," he admits. "He didn't want me to take away from their time to practice, so I'll watch and participate before he runs a private test for me. It'll probably go until…seven, seven-thirty."

"I'll pick you up then," I promise, holding back my distaste for coffee as I take another sip. I can't help noticing his shoulders slump in relief since I didn't get on his case for having to be at school so late. I'll admit that I usually do since post-sunset is when most stray yuurei and youkai come out to play, but upon learning I have quite a few allies in the area, I'm not too concerned with him staying late. Turning the page from the most recent news to the local section, I ask, "How did things with your friend go?"

"Pretty good," Souta answers, pouring himself some milk. "Satoru-kun and I went to the arcade for a bit, and I made some friends with a few kids from other schools. And at his house, we talked about how weird our classmates are. Like, there's one guy in the front row whose older brother sells drugs for a living, another whose mother is reportedly sleeping with the principal, and the girl right next to the guy whose brother sells drugs has this public crush on our Japanese Lit. teacher."

I pause in my reading, meet his eyes for a moment, and ponder the fate of the next generation before paying attention to my newspaper again.

Souta blinks, taking his first sip of milk before going on. "One athlete who's dyed his hair in class is rumored to punch whoever you tell him to"—oh, dear Kami—"another might be buying steroids from that one guy's brother"—I really hope this a joke—"and apparently, there's this one girl whose parents have pulled her out of school for two weeks ever since her ex-boyfriend got ran over by a car."

Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in my head, and I stare at my brother in awe.

Despite my interest peaking, Souta goes on, lost in thought. "Satoru-kun says he thinks she's mourning or that the guy may have been following her before he got hit, and her guilt complex is why she's not there anymore, but I don't—"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_, Souta," I interrupt, my inner detective's intuition taking over. "Sorry to cut you off, but did Satoru mention these kids' names?"

He blinks. "Um, yes. Hitomi-chan and Makoto-kun. Why?"

I grin because this is _it_—this is my lead, my clue to the mystery, the piece I finally found in order to complete the puzzle. Tossing my newspaper down and finishing my coffee—albeit grudgingly—I inform my brother, "You know, I think you may just be able to help me this once."

"Oh, gee," he mutters sarcastically, going to drink his milk again. "Thanks, Nee-chan. That makes me feel so special, it really does."

I smirk in return.

Then, as if just catching up to what I said, Souta takes a pause from sipping his milk, furrows his eyebrows, and says dumbly, "What?"

Next thing you know, I'm outside, screaming at the top of my lungs,

_"Inuyasha!"_

"Gods-_DAMMIT_!" he yells, though it's pretty muffled by the concrete of the shrine yard.

I guess shouting at him whenever he's napping on Goshinboku isn't exactly the nicest way to get his attention, but concerning my news and current happiness, I could really care less.

Inuyasha's the opposite of my mood, though, as he forcefully pulls his face from the cement and glares at me so fiercely, it may have rivaled my glowers at the kappa—may have. He demands in a growl, "What the _fuck_, woman? Are you some sort of sadist?"

"Possibly," I admit, "but that isn't the issue here." Humming mischievously, I skip right to his spot at the base of the tree and plop down beside him. He looks at me as if I'm about to purify him to dust, which brings me down for some reason, but I don't let it tamper with my excitement. "Guess what?" I ask elatedly.

"You've lost it?" he mutters darkly, picking at some frayed seams in his suikan.

Still buzzing, I answer, "Nope."

"What in the seventh hell is it then?" he snaps, eyes darting to me.

Pretending as if his attention means nothing—since it will increase the suspense—I grin even wider. "Are you sure you want to know? I mean—"

_"Yes," _he mutters darkly, rolling his eyes. "_Yes_, I want to know. Now just tell me, damn you."

I just smile, watching the sunset once more as it spreads warmth in the darkening sky full of hues ranging from gold to violet, leaving no trace of stars behind. "I solved the case. I _know _how we're going to solve this one, what's happened, and what will happen if we don't." Sensing his shock and curiosity—no matter how much he thinks he's masking it—I explain, "Makoto has been haunting Hitomi because he never got to tell her was that he loved her."

"And how the hell did you get that?" he grumbles, granting me with a curt glare before yawning, pretty much ruining its effect.

Too proud of myself to really care about his usual rudeness, I keep on beaming and speaking. "Souta heard it all from his friend: they were from different social classes that held different values. I'm guessing while Makoto thought money was everything, Hitomi thought words and actions counted most, which is what lead to their break-up," I tell him, remembering Kazuko's words back at the shop and my brother's explanation in the kitchen. "According to their classmates, she didn't care much for gifts, and he wasn't one to say how he felt. I bet all the stuff we saw in her bedroom were old presents from him, and I bet even more that Hitomi saw his constant gifts as him trying to buy her heart instead of earn it. Since all he told us was how he wished she'd 'known', it's obvious he died before he got it through to her that he _did _love her."

Before I can continue, a certain bipolar hanyou interrupts without a second thought. "What a load of bull," Inuyasha huffs, crossing his arms, and I raise an eyebrow, curious as to what he's getting at. Returning the gesture, he explains, "What bitch doesn't like getting shit?"

…_Did he really just say that?_ Shaking my head at this half-demon's infinite amount of ignorance, I refrain from throwing a knife his way right then and there. _What an idiot._

"Moving on," I say, ignoring his irritated growl in favor of the topic at hand. "Rumor has it that he was going to confess his love for her before he died. He was following her after school, chasing her down to confess when he was hit by a truck; he died later on in the hospital." I feel Inuyasha staring at me, and even though it feels constricting—similar to a teacher's—the words continue flowing from my mouth. "Now Makoto's haunting Hitomi has made her eyes open permanently, as if that'll somehow make her see his love for her now that he's dead."

Inuyasha avoids my gaze, shaking his head and rolling those golden eyes of his, as if the whole situation itself is unbelievable. Which it's obviously not, considering two teenagers have been put under these sad circumstances.

And now that his gaze has been torn away from me, I magically feel as if I can breathe again. I inhale deeply before going on. "I'm guessing the reason she's sleeping is because that's when love is 'at its purest'—you know, when someone's sleeping and you see the side to them you never did when they were awake, when they can't hide their true selves from you and so on."

Inuyasha's eyebrows furrow, and before he looks at me again, I decide to rush through the rest. "However," I add on, "since his love's a bit more selfish than genuine—right now, anyway—I think she's more asleep due to the fact yuurei are able to share feelings and thoughts through dreams with the living. So, Hitomi could have been receiving messages from Makoto in her sleep these past few weeks.

"The whole situation formed because he wants her to figuratively see his love for her in its 'best state'," I conclude, nodding my head and leaning back as my speech finally starts to feel worthy of an A-plus. "So, in order for Makoto to move on, we need to somehow convey the message to him that she _does_ know he loves her or vice versa: get it across to the forever-sleeping Hitomi that she _was_ loved."

And that's how the cookie crumbles.

Though I'm proud of myself for figuring this all out within one evening and managing to explain it all without having to stop and think over my words—I've never been very good with speeches—I feel Inuyasha's eyes on me for a while. After a while, I finally turn to him with a raised brow and ask, "What?"

Inuyasha looks at my face idly, and I blink in confusion. He asks, softer than his voice has ever been, "You're okay, right?"

My eyebrows furrow. What does he mean—? _Oh._ "Yeah," I reply, looking down at the band-aid barely visible to my vision before holding onto my cheek. "I almost forgot about it, actually," I admit.

"Keh, whatever," he scoffs, bristling as if I've somehow offended him. Seeing as he's bipolar, I wouldn't be surprised one bit if I have. He huffs, glaring at the air, "Not like I cared or anything." I give him an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow again before he snaps, "Shouldn't you be in bed already or something?"

My eyes magically roll in their sockets again. "Whatever you say," I drone, getting up from the ground and stretching languidly as a yawn escapes me. Who cares if it's only the evening? I'm deadbeat, and not just from getting barely any sleep last night—also due to the fact I've been running around Tokyo all day and socializing with people I barely know. As soon as my yawn ends, I head to the house and mumble on my way, "Goodnight, Inuyasha," deciding to let the poor half-demon return to his sleep and stop nagging me.

"Feh."

Oh, screw him anyway. Not like I need a proper goodbye to sleep peacefully tonight, especially from some bipolar jackass who haunted my school's innocent biology teachers for the day.

Huffing, I enter the house, well-aware of Shippou still playing with the newspaper and Souta's going over his homework while pondering over the paper that's moving of its own accord. Jii-chan is snoozing on the sofa, ever the couch potato since Souta and I began doing half a day's work for him. Then again, he's probably even more exhausted than usual with his brother's death weighing down on him. I tiptoe past him to ascend the stairs and take a quick shower since Kami knows my poor hair needs it. I enter the bathroom, locking the door behind me and evaluating the area for any vengeful water imps before giving a nod and turning on the shower nozzle.

You may call it paranoid, as would most of the general population. I, however, refer to it as being careful.

I don't take my time inside the shower, instead hurriedly scrubbing myself down to the point where my skin reddens and using uneven amounts of shampoo and conditioner to finish it off. I skip taking a bath afterward, leaving the cold water for Souta when he comes to take his tomorrow, and quickly dry myself off before securing the towel around my chest and racing to my room.

I inhale a breath of relief and feel myself finally begin to relax. And now, to return to my precious bed—

"Kagome?"

_Oh, for the love of—_ I hold in a curse and turn to meet Shippou's eyes that seem oblivious to the fact I'm practically naked, which is just a tad odd. I overlook it for the most part, though, when I notice how he seems to be teetering on his feet a little, anxious about something other than the fact that I'm _undressed_. I raise an eyebrow. "Yes?" What's on his mind? And why hasn't he realized I'm partially nude and would prefer to be in my room rather than the hallway?

"Um, I was wondering…" His kitsune feet—more specifically, paws—fumble together a bit, his emerald eyes glued to the floor. "Can I…? If I could—"

"Yes?" I repeat in a steady tone, though I'm secretly losing my patience, considering there's a marvelous mattress calling my name right now. I wonder if he's losing his train of thought already and muse over what topic would make him so edgy. When he doesn't continue, I encourage briskly, "C'mon, Ship—out with it."

He looks up at me with those big, green eyes, and then everything goes blank except for "Can I sleep here with you—just for tonight?"

When I'm stuck with a fox under the covers beside me, a fluffy tail tickling my side every minute or so, I tell myself, _It was the _eyes_…! _I'd rather do that than allow myself to believe a demon I've known for less than a week has already gotten under my skin and crawled his way into my heart. But then again, maybe it was more than the eyes—maybe it was also the fact that I knew his mother abandoned him a little, and he's searching for a mother figure. He spoke somewhat fondly of Kikyou—not very fondly, not even as fondly as he did Inuyasha, but somewhat, so maybe all he needed was an older woman's comfort—?

He sniffs in his sleep and promptly kicks me in the back.

_Or not._

I huff silently, turning to him and the window in order to glare at the full moon, receding ever so slowly as the night passes on. I'm really too nice for my profession, especially since I work alone and am surrounded by youkai and ghosts constantly. Maybe I _am_ befriending a demon more than a taijiya should, even if he doesn't have even one trace of jyaki in his system. But I'm only doing it just this once—only a little—and then that's it. No more youkai best friends from then on and out.

But then again, the Shikon Five worked with demons just fine, didn't they?

I close my eyes again, willing myself to just _go to sleep_, but when a small hand clutches my sleeve almost desperately, my eyes snap open and roll all the way back to my head. Inwardly cursing, I bring the kitsune closer and allow him to hug me in his sleep. Judging by his tightened eyes and stressed muscles, he's having a bad dream.

I sigh and rub his hair until he relaxes, then finally confess to myself, yes, I have just befriended a youkai on some more personal terms. Even though he's a child, I must admit I've never really grown close with a demon during my time as a taijiya and youkaihanta. I've barely even treated a ghost this way since they don't need any more lingering attachments to this world, and considering I'm not really resisting it, who knows who's next.

Hm…maybe Inuyasha?

I almost wake up Shippou by laughing at that one.

Inuyasha—a friend? I mean, I can get ally, but _friend_? Buwhahahaha, that's funny.

_However, _I note, staring out my window to the nearest tree, _he _did _distract everyone today from Hojo Akitoki's death. _Staff and students alike were moping about it yesterday and this morning—even my sleepless self could recognize this—but as the hours passed, the students began buzzing about a possible yuurei haunting the biology lab. And according to the student body, this ghost made dead frogs float and knocked over numerous test tubes involving some experiment they conducted to observe the composition of fruit.

Though everyone only paid me any real attention on the first day I arrived, Yuka, Eri, and Ayumi—the three girls I met in Kouga's class—still talked to me, all gossiping about the possible school ghost. They even went as far as wondering if he'd "haunt" the girls' locker rooms, which I doubted, considering Inuyasha was thoroughly horrified when he saw me without even my shirt. However, I was too busy resting my eyes to bother correcting them or coming up with an excuse as to how I'd know he wouldn't do such a thing. Not to mention, Inuyasha was also helpful today with the whole "She Whose Eyes Won't Close" Case…

Okay. So he's not that bad after all—maybe even a bit heroic, with how he dealt with Makoto and made the kid apologize to me—but a friend? Pff, I repeat: that's funny.

I'm torn from my thoughts as Shippou breathes on my bicep, and I try to get used to the feeling as I stare at the wall across from me. With a little kid in my arms, it's hard not to imagine myself in Mama's place as she held me in my sleep during our family nights where we'd bring out a large futon, Souta by Papa, and my mother keeping me close. I was hoping I could have the bed to myself tonight, but with someone else here, I find myself wincing as I remember the jokes my father would make in the dark, Mama and Souta's giggling, and how I'd roll my eyes and clutch onto the pillow that smelt of my mother's shampoo.

_Strawberry…just like the band _Cream_'s logo…_

I grimace at the connection, forcing my eyes close and erase the moment from my mind. I take deep breaths, hoping it'll relax me enough to fade away from consciousness. Then, at some point, sleep consumes me, and I find myself dreaming of hypnosis, laughter, and large smiles before broken glass consumes all the light left.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

_Sunlight streamed through one of the windows on the day of her tenth birthday, and her mother stood at its base, staring into the crowded streets below. But there was something off about this whole thing that had left the birthday girl with a tilted head and innocent interest before she took a place beside Mrs. Higurashi at the windowsill._

_Mere minutes earlier, Kagome had been in another room entirely, but upon realizing her parents held answers she had no idea to, she rushed out to the main room to talk to one of them. And yet she came across her mother, holding a steaming tea cup and looking outside with a worried, uncharacteristic gaze._

_This wasn't like her mama, especially on her birthday, and so she saw no choice but to figure out what was on her mind._

_She stood resolute by her mother's side, following the movement down below, all the while wondering what was so fascinating yet cheerless about it. Eventually, she noticed her mama's eyes were scanning the roads as if searching for something, and though Kagome tried to help her look, she had no idea what she was looking for._

_Finding nothing but some familiar faces and cars outside, the just-turned-ten year old looked up at the woman beside her, whose chocolate eyes were unusually weighty that morning. "Mama?" Receiving no reaction, the girl tugged on her mother's blouse with furrowed eyebrows and repeated a bit louder, more concerned, "Mama?"_

_Almost as if coming out of shock, Mrs. Higurashi turned to her at first with wide eyes before finally smiling, causing the creases in her face to recede. "Hm? What do you need, Kaggie honey bear?"_

_She opened her mouth, the question on her tongue when the nickname threw her off, and she suddenly felt like she'd be ruining whatever good mood her mother managed to find. "Nothing," she whispered, "but, Mama, I was wondering…" She meant to say something, to fill in the space and get to where she wanted to be in the conversation, but Kagome found it was harder than she thought to really ask what was going on with her, so instead her throat locked up and she just stared at the floor silently. _

_Moments passed as the woman stared at her daughter quizzically, and finally, the child drew a sigh. "It really _was_ nothing," she insisted, twiddling with her thumbs when she felt the other's eyes on her even more, curious and somewhat worried. "But I was just wondering…can we get t-shirts at the concert?"_

_She noticed the change in her mama instantly: her grip on the cup turning lax, her shoulders loosening, and suddenly the smile turned genuine, nearly relieved, which made her feel just as happy in return. "Of course, sweetie." Mrs. Higurashi drew her daughter in for a hug and quick kiss to her short, raven hair, and Kagome smiled before skipping back to the other room, dreaming of that night's possibilities._

_Looking back years later, she realizes her mistake that day._

_She should've asked what was on her mother's mind while she had the chance._

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

Of course the one night I expect myself to sleep decently, I wake up at three in the morning as usual from another dream.

Why my dreams are suddenly stealing my sleep from me now all these years later, I'll never know, but I continue to groan softly, rubbing the goo out of my eyes as I search my room for the time. My alarm clock says two more hours to go until I should get ready for school, but my body says I should just go back to sleep and stay under the covers forever. I'd personally rather obey my body, but my darned conscience makes me maneuver around Shippou so my legs can swing out from the covers and touch the floor, pulling me out of bed.

Darn it all.

I sigh, stretching upon standing, and leisurely make my way into the hall. I descend the stairs carefully, afraid of making them creak too much, thus waking up Souta, Shippou, or Jii-chan. When I hit the bottom step, I exhale with relief and silently walk into the kitchen to make myself some coffee to start the day.

At first, I had no clue how to make coffee. I certainly couldn't learn it from Tsuyu, who—though skilled with tea—depended on Starbucks for her morning boost. Jii-chan's a fan of oriental food, and I'm pretty sure what _actual_ food he's eaten has been from the visits Tsuyu, Souta, and I made. The only thing my parents really got to teach me was how to make cereal, leaving me with Tsuyu as my only cooking instructor.

And then I discovered this beautiful thing called Google, and though the coffee is crap, it is made.

When I drink it this time, I don't hold back my disgust—my nose scrunches up, and I feel a gag coming on. I have no idea why I suddenly thought coffee would be an awesome energy source, but I'm slowly becoming to regret the decision to rely on it. Actually, maybe I thought if I got used to my crappy coffee, I'd start visiting coffee shops on my own and meet some nice guy who was born to meet me, as I was him. You know, like Tsuyu and that idiot Nobunaga.

I nibble on my lip, then take a nice, long gulp of coffee.

Time to think about other things already, such as the fact it's only Wednesday and so much shit has happened since I've arrived in Tokyo already. I shake my head. If everything happened in a matter of four days, I can only wonder what's yet to come. The amount of youkai and yuurei I'm taking care of may increase significantly here, or maybe I'm just getting a lot of missions right now because the local taijiya organization has been booked recently. So, that would mean all these demons have been left unattended to whereas the ghosts were just ignored overall.

Who knows, but I have the feeling my secret professional life is about to get more hectic.

I sigh, taking a smaller sip before glancing out the window tiredly, again looking at the moon in a haze. It passes through my mind idly maybe, just maybe, my father stared out this same window when he was a teenager on the nights he had trouble sleeping, and if those nights ended once he met my mother.

My eyes soften, remembering just how happy they were together, before flickering and focusing on a figure in Goshinboku. At first, I dismiss it as Inuyasha's silhouette due to the darkness of the night. However, the moon's still bright from this weekend's full moon, so I know when I distinguish long, raven hair from silver, it's no illusion.

_Some woman is hovering over Inuyasha._

With wide eyes, I stare and stare and stare endlessly, not exactly sure what to do. Run the hell out there, demanding answers, thus waking up Inuyasha and causing possible chaos? Or stay where I am, wondering who the hell is sitting by his side, staring at the moon? Since I'm half-asleep, still disoriented, and Inuyasha's never happy to wake up, I choose the latter, just gazing at the pale, long-haired woman dressed in pretty kimono.

All I can really make out is that she's certainly not a demon—all the energy I can sense is Shippou and Inuyasha's familiar youki. I'm not in the same atmosphere as her, so I can't tell if she's a ghost or spirit. Maybe she's some sort of cosplaying psychic who randomly passed by, sensed Inuyasha, and is now fascinated with his being?

…oh, dear gods. Inuyasha—_fascinating_.

I let out a laugh.

Chuckling into my hand, shaking my head in amusement, I take just one more sip of the coffee before glancing out the window again. I'm curious as to why she's here, whether she be a ningen or yuurei. And why specifically hang around Inuyasha? If she's a ghost, does she hold some sort of connection to him? Or maybe…she's a human admirer?

My eyes widen and, all of a sudden, my attention rests solely on Goshinboku, which now only has one occupant. Inuyasha looks like he's sleeping peacefully whereas I'm blinking repeatedly, questioning my perception of things in general. I stare at the coffee in my hands, mystified, then glance to the space the woman once took up before quickly focusing on my cup again.

I wonder: should I not drink coffee after waking up anymore? On second thought, due to the Kohaku incident, am I just insane in general? Maybe even placed a hair band similar to Kohaku's on my own wrist?

I shake my head fiercely, dumping my drink in the sink before heading back upstairs, mumbling to myself all the way.

Screw starting the day; I need more sleep—pronto.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

I never thought I would willingly put my brother in danger's way before, but considering he volunteered and I'll have Inuyasha for back-up, I don't mind using him as some sort of bait for this mission. I prepped him on how to handle ghosts properly in case Makoto were to get aggressive with him, and Souta took it all in stride, nodding firmly with each direction I gave.

But, as I've mentioned before, my brother is one of those pansies who's all up for _planning_ to save the world, and then run like fuck when it comes to doing the deed itself.

I sigh, strolling down to Feudal Antiques while Souta mumbles to himself (I actually think he's giving himself a pep talk…). Inuyasha's nose scrunches up at the restaurants nearby as he walks through people thoughtlessly, sometimes even growling at the even more oblivious people passing by. I just roll my eyes, not really wanting to embarrass myself in public by nagging at a ghost since, even though he's nearby and could be mistaken as the receiving end of my ranting, Souta's talking to himself, clueless to me _or_ fellow pedestrians.

Kami save Hitomi with these two as my assistants.

Unfortunately for me, early this morning, I made the mistake of telling Souta my plans. The only reason I'd done it was so that he could cover my chores for me after school, but upon hearing my case involved _his_ classmate, the kid was all for helping me and insisted he bring over Hitomi's absent work while he was at it, too. So I guess you could say it was my own fault that my plans have been delayed by a half hour or so. Upon picking him up from school with an inu-hanyou following my every move, Souta proceeded to happily tell me his coach said he could return for his tryout later. I nodded faintly before Souta fell into his nervous wreck spell and we got to where we are now.

Finally speaking to me since school let out, Inuyasha mutters as if Souta will hear him, "Why's your weirdo brother here?" He's probably remembering when he was first introduced to Souta…and the thirteen-year-old went into fanboy mode.

Despite that, though, I roll my eyes. "He's not weird"—my gaze settles on the kid as he gives himself a pep talk—"much." Inuyasha gives me an _are you blind?_ face, and I glare at him silently in return, refusing to admit my brother might just be the odd one of this bunch.

And, while our eyes are on each other once again, I think back to this morning and the morning before that, considering telling him how I've been seeing things or not before deciding to save the topics for another time—or never.

Our trip to the store today actually takes less time than it did yesterday, but with companions like these, it certainly doesn't feel that way. When Inuyasha trips Souta lightly at the curb, I ignore them in favor of opening the front door, letting the _ding_ of the door and dust in the air accompany me as I leave the two stooges behind. I call out, "Kazuko-san? It's me, Higurashi Kagome."

"OH!" I hear her exclaim from the backroom.

At last, Souta and Inuyasha follow in behind me, the hanyou's nose acting up again with the dust while my brother scowls and wipes gravel off his uniform, muttering, "So much for Nee-chan's new friend being cool…"

_"Friend,"_ he says. _"Cool,"_ he says. And here I go, rolling my eyes again.

Thankfully, Kazuko doesn't notice as she hurries into the main room to meet me. "I'm sorry," she insists, wiping some smudge off her hands with her apron. "I would've been out here in the front, but I had to fix some pipes…" She trails off when she sees I've brought company, then looks at me expectantly.

Honestly, since I'm terrible at socializing, I almost don't realize how rude I'm being for not introducing Souta until he mimics her expression. _Whoops._ "Kazuko-san," I say, "this is my brother, Souta."

"Oh!" Hitomi's mother says pleasantly, always in the mood for that short syllable. I smile as she greets Souta with the same warmth she eventually bestowed upon me. "It's very nice to meet you, Souta-kun."

Showing his shyer side, Souta bows slightly and returns the phrase before continuing, "As it turns out, ma'am, I have class with Hitomi. If you like, I'll go ahead and give her the assignments she's missed when she wakes up."

Kazuko looks surprised for a moment before her face genuinely lights up, looking even more content than she did yesterday when I promised her I'd bring Hitomi back to normal. Maybe it's just me, but I think Souta's words helped just a bit more—because when he said it, it sounded like a guarantee his classmate would be awake to accept her homework.

Hitomi's mother still has a smile on her face when she turns to me, and I feel I'm actually seeing the true woman behind the somber, stressed façade I met earlier. Though I'm afraid I might ruin her newfound good mood, I feel it's the right time to ask, "How have things been here with your daughter?"

Luckily for me, her mood doesn't change too much. "Better," Kazuko sighs, slumping a bit in what I presume to be relief. Inuyasha and I share a look before she insists, "Come with me to the back; I'll make some tea."

This time, I motion for Souta to follow me as I walk with Kazuko to the living room Inuyasha and I sat in before. Right as I round one of the chairs, an eruption of a sneeze occurs behind me, making my knee whack into a wooden rocker in the midst of my shock. Hissing silently as Souta talks with Kazuko about how he could help her those pipes, I glare at Inuyasha, who does nothing but innocently stare back.

"Asshole," I mumble, resisting the urge to hold my knee in agony. It hit just the right spot… Dammit. That was probably bruise-worthy.

"Says you, wench," Inuyasha mutters back, tucking his arms into his suikan like he couldn't care less. I hiss at him once more, indiscreetly pointing to my knee for emphasis, but he just growls back—before it's killed by his nose scrunching up again. I shake my head before taking a seat at the couch beside my brother, who gives me a puzzled look when I begin lightly massaging my knee with a pissed expression while Inuyasha tries to ignore me.

_Wait—_ I turn back to Inuyasha with a bewildered, astonished look.

Before I can actually say anything, though—or even acknowledge his weird face in response to my own—Kazuko comes back into the room with a smile and tray full of teacups. "Here's the tea!" she says, repeating her words from yesterday as she serves it once more. When I'm handed my cup, I thank her before taking a sip, realizing I'd only held it in my hands last time I visited. Though I don't mind it and it's actually pretty good, I decide Miroku was right: Sango's tea is probably the best I will ever have.

Kazuko obviously doesn't serve Inuyasha, who's still regarding me oddly, but after Souta takes a drink of it, he says, "This is really good, ma'am. Is this a family recipe?"

"Heavens no," Kazuko says, stunned though flattered by my brother's comment. I'm not even sure where it came from, given Souta typically doesn't compliment people so politely, even if it's Tsuyu (he's not rude—he's just usually not that considerate), but he doesn't give off any hints as to why he said it. "But I appreciate your words, Souta-kun," Hitomi's mother continues, oblivious as to how out-of-character this is for him. "Oh, and call me Ogawa-san, will you? 'Ma'am' feels too formal for me."

Souta nods, Inuyasha's ears are flicking to the bedroom beside us, and around this time, I feel it's right to ask my client, "Pardon me for interrupting…but what specifically has happened since my last visit?"

Kazuko perks up when I address her before her eyes cast themselves to her daughter's bedroom door. "Nothing has happened since you left—and that's why I'm feeling a bit on edge," she confesses, wringing her hands in her apron. "I was actually surprised when I went in there last night and this morning with some water for Hitomi, and nothing came flying my way." Clueless to how my mind taking notes over this matter, Kazuko pauses and regards me with tentative, yet stern eyes. "Higurashi-san… What is _really_ happening? I heard you say Makoto-kun's name…"

Souta gulps beside me, unaware of what exactly went down the day before, but I simply inform her, "Your daughter's ex-boyfriend's spirit has been having trouble move on because he feels he has unfinished business with Hitomi-chan. I'm planning to go in there today to convince him that Hitomi did know he loved her since both you and her peers have been saying their relationship was complicated in that aspect."

Kazuko nods, and the room goes silent for a moment outside of Inuyasha's idle sniffing. Maybe my comment was too professional, but I think this sort of quiet is coming from the fact that there's no more to say—that with each second we spend speaking in here, we're wasting time that could be spent saving Hitomi. Hell, wasn't I the one complaining about my lack of time earlier?

I'm either a hypocrite or complete idiot.

Inwardly chastising myself, I stand up and bow shortly to Kazuko, gaining everyone's attention, including Inuyasha, who has seemed practically bored out of his mind these past few minutes. "Kazuko-san," I say suddenly, earning everyone's attention, "you were working on pipes of some sort, weren't you?" Hesitant at first, probably wondering where I'm going with this, she nods slowly, and I grin brightly before suggesting, "Why doesn't Souta help you out? He went over piping in Home Economics back at his school in Kyoto… He should know how to fix whatever problem it is you're having."

While Kazuko gets this excited look on her face and praises me for my "wonderful idea", Souta glares at me for offering him up for labor when we _both_ knew he secretly wanted to see me work. I give an almost unnoticeable shrug in return, not bothering to tell him whatever ideas he thought I had to use him as bait have vanished _dramatically_. However, his shoulders slump and he releases a deep breath at seeing Kazuko's enthusiasm, probably forfeiting whatever idea of resistance he'd thought up.

When Kazuko and Souta are out of sight—my brother giving me glares on his way out—Inuyasha turns to me with a very confused facial expression. "Why the hell did ya send him away?" he asks. "Didn't we bring him along so he could do the dirty work in the first place?"

"Maybe you thought that's why I brought him," I say with a raised eyebrow, "but I wanted him here because, well, I knew he'd be able to help distract Kazuko. And considering how worried she was overhearing everything last time, I figured a distraction would be best for today."

At seeing Inuyasha's disapproving look, I shrug. Who knows more about how women work here? The centuries old spirit who's emotionally constipated, or me, who—although terrible with people—has been around them more?

"Let's just go talk to the kid," Inuyasha mutters, walking into Hitomi's room. I huff—since when is he calling the shots?—but follow anyway.

Inside, Kazuko's words are proven true: nothing in Hitomi's room has been moved around, and there's no sign of Makoto's anger spiking and causing any damage to the walls, items, etc. Nothing has changed—even Makoto is still sitting next to Hitomi, looking down at her like he was before Inuyasha and I came in yesterday. But even now, his head doesn't pop up, and after a few moments, I realize he must be in deep thought, either over his relationship with Hitomi, what's been happening these past few weeks, or both.

Did something I say yesterday inspire this, or was it my mere appearance that made him begin rethinking things?

I don't want to interrupt his pondering, but we can't just stand around here, waiting for him to finish. I open my mouth—

"Hey, brat—stop bein' creepy and starin' at the girl."

Well, that was easy.

Makoto jerks up, coming to when he sees loudmouth Inuyasha—giving those dog ears a weird look, as if he still can't believe they exist—and then he spots me standing by the inu-hanyou's side. "Uh, sorry," he says, and for a moment, I'm blinded by the sudden show of manners he's having. "I was just thinking about things."

Before Inuyasha can say anything stupid, I smile and ask him, "Would you mind if I sat next to you, Makoto-kun?" His lips part, and he's probably hesitant at first, but he finally nods, so I walk over and take the empty spot on the other side of Hitomi. Choosing my words carefully despite his current, uncharacteristic nature, I ask, "Would you mind if I was wondering what you were thinking about, too?"

Sighing, he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, though, so I wait for him to speak while Inuyasha _hmphs_ and plops down beside me, somehow going unnoticed by the boy who was terrified of his presence just a day ago.

"I've been thinking about…all of this," Makoto admits, gesturing his arms to Hitomi's bedroom, sort of confusing about what he means until he clarifies, "My feelings, our relationship, how we meet, how I died, how I've been here since then…" His eyes soften. "I wanted to tell Hitomi how I loved her hair—but it just didn't feel right, so I bought her a comb with something like topaz in it. She accepted it, but I never realized until now…"

He pauses and says nothing after that. Even though I would like to think I'm patient, I eventually lose it when my nerves start being eaten away by curiosity or urgency. I almost speak up to ask, "Until now…what?" but then I feel Inuyasha's hand on my shoulder, which makes me look at him with questioning eyes, especially since he's probably even more impatient than me. An amber gaze meets my own, and even though he only whispers my name—shockingly enough—and shakes his head in response, I feel something clasp in my throat that stops me anyway.

The silence feels never-ending until Makoto finally speaks again. "I never realized none of my gifts mattered to Hitomi like I thought they did. I thought they were what kept her around—it was the only way I ever kept my friends. But I never thought…that smile she wore when I gave them to her was forced." Here, Makoto closes his eyes and says, "I actually thought she cared about those things."

My mouth opens again to say something, but another glance from Inuyasha silences me all over again. I don't know why he's suddenly thinking about things more than I am, what the meaning behind his actions are, but I do find myself helpless to follow them, allowing Makoto to talk and stay quiet as he pleases.

"I didn't know why Hitomi broke up with me. I just kept thinking maybe, I didn't give her enough to show I cared," the boy confesses. A sad, wry smirk crossing his lips. "But she never cared about that, did she? When I was so bad with words—when I couldn't tell her I understood how much she missed her dad when he was away—they were what mattered most to her because…Hitomi didn't read in-between the lines. She didn't understand that I really cared for her because I wasn't actually_ there_ for her—I never showed comfort through anything but _stuff_—everything she never cared about." He paused before he continues, his voice more small, "She's never known how much I loved her, and now I can't even tell her."

_Meaning_—my eyes widen—_that_ _Makoto isn't intentionally keeping her this way…_

Words escape my mouth before I can stop and pile them back down my throat. "That's why you're here now," I state, and his head rises again. "You just want to be there for her now, to help her cope with your death, right?"

When he nods faintly, I feel like we're finally going somewhere—like I'm in control of things again. Regaining whatever confidence I lost when Inuyasha held me back, I tackle the situation head first. "Makoto-kun," I begin slowly as to avoid any objects being thrown at my face randomly, "as much as I don't like saying it…Hitomi-chan doesn't know you're here for her. But her family and friends are—except they haven't been able to help her because of your feelings. They've been unintentionally making her sleep like this ever since you came and found her."

Makoto opens his mouth to argue, thankfully with words instead of blunt, sharp items, but then closes it, as if realizing it's pointless. I feel somewhat bad until he agrees, "That'd make more sense than my death bringing her into shock."

Suddenly, sensitive, careful Inuyasha snorts, and I resist the urge to reach over and slap him across the face or rip out his hair with my bare hands. Violent, possibly, but the idea of such good progress being ruined by _one person_'s screw up would be my patience's end.

Makoto merely glares at my companion, which I'm grateful for. It seems he truly has calmed down from yesterday, and I think right now, the boy we're interacting with is the one Hitomi knew—give or take some maturity. "Even if Hitomi was awake…would she see me?"

"Probably, if she woke up now," I inform him. "If she were never connected to you in this way, though… No, she wouldn't see you. As far as I know, Hitomi isn't a reibai such as myself or a yuurei such as Inuyasha—she wouldn't see you if you weren't the one making her…this way."

"That's why Ogawa-san and Kazuko-san came in without acknowledging me…" He gulps, I think coming to face with the facts he's been given, before sighing. "I could've had anything I wanted," he muses aimlessly, "but Hitomi… She was all that and more—and she wouldn't let me have her."

I remain still for a moment while Makoto grieves, choosing not to reassure him that Hitomi did love him—because now that would be seen as disagreeing with him, which could result in another outburst. "Makoto-kun…" He turns to me, and I state caringly, "Maybe I don't fully understand; maybe I don't truly know what has happened, but…I think it's time you move on—let both her and yourself heal and be happy again."

Makoto looks at Hitomi, then back to me in pain. "Leaving her…"

And even though it's two words, I know what he's saying. "It's hard to leave those you love behind," I tell him understandingly. "It's even harder to let them go, especially when you feel they were never in your reach to begin with." Makoto's eyes shine, and if I weren't so knowledgeable about ghosts, I'd think he's going to cry. "But letting them go shows your strength—and how much you've cared for them all along."

Our eyes meet for a moment, then his dark orbs look away, as if eye contact is too hard to bear. Quiet passes over us, but when he speaks again after softly clearing his throat, I give him my full attention.

"Do you think she'll be happy?" he asks me in a tiny, worried whisper. "That she'll find someone to love…who'll love her more than I did?"

"Yes," I confess, preferring to be honest with my answer, even if it pains him. "She will find her future husband one day, have children, have a job—that's inevitable. We all move on from loss eventually, in some way or another." He nods, accepting this as fact. "But I know, Makoto…that even when she's old, she'll always remember her first love."

This comment seems to be undoing as he bows his head, holding it as he takes deep breaths before bringing it back up to again to meet my eyes—the anguished, hurt look now gone, replaced with something resolute and mature. "Thank you for everything…Kagome-san."

I blink in surprise before realizing he must've heard Inuyasha say my name earlier. I nod, giving him a smile he decides to return. When Inuyasha looks at me, he expresses all that I'm feeling within this moment. _Finally,_ I think with relief and a tilt of my lips.

Finally.

The moment she blinks and her stunning eyes begin to focus on the ceiling, the room is filled with an odd sense of calm. How Makoto's face turns soft, his own gaze following suit. How she looks over to him and sits up rapidly, evidently stunned by his presence since, last she heard, he was dead. Then a bittersweet smile crosses his lips, and I officially know the end has arrived.

After weeks of unrest, Makoto will move on.

"Goodbye…Hitomi," he says gently for once, and her eyes widen from the lack of an honorific. She seems to want to say something, but can't say the words. And even when she does seem to find them, Makoto just shakes his head at her while a small smile, as if he knows what she'll say—and I think he does when he whispers to her, "I'll always love you more."

Then it feels like a dream when, after only two days of knowing him, we watch as he slowly dissipates before giving way to air.

From where she sits next to me, Hitomi's lips tremble, and my heart gives a small pang when she suddenly notices me, looking for answers. "Makoto-kun…" Her whisper is full of anguish. "Onee-san, what just happened? What's been happening?"

She's breaking into pieces in front of us, so I give her a small touch of comfort to her bicep, silently assuring her everything will be okay. "It's a long story," I tell her kindly, "but believe me when I say he's finally at peace after a long suffering."

Her lips twist in a terrible way and her eyes squeeze tight before she collapses against my chest, and Inuyasha watches while I hold her as tears of confusion, grief, and misery catch up to her.

And for once, even though it's on the inside, I feel myself crying for a dead man, too.

**/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\**

"Thank you again, Higurashi-san," Kazuko says, bowing the lowest she can go to me, making me just as flustered as Sango did during my visit yesterday. "Your help… We are forever in gratitude for your help, and to the Kami for leading you to us."

I briefly want to state how really it is a possible illusion that lead me here, and Yue-Laou himself had said the Kami have bigger things to do than take care of just a few people at once, but the urge goes away at the next moment. Instead, I bow in return to her, saying, "Thank _you_, Kazuko-san, for letting my brother and I into your home." A short few seconds pass before I begin to feel the formality fade away, and I ask, "You know you can just call me Kagome, right?"

Kazuko laughs. "Right," she says. "Of course."

I manage to return her smile before looking to where her daughter is standing, red eyes unfocused. Souta seems to shuffle around a bit at my side, and he doesn't even notice when I give him a questioning look before he makes his way over to her, catching everyone's eye while he's at it.

Oh, boy.

Inuyasha, who's been oddly quiet ever since the scene with Makoto in Hitomi's bedroom, groans—the first noise I've heard from him in half an hour. I look at him inquisitively, and he questions with furrowed eyebrows, "The runt wouldn't 'hit on' her, would he?"

Somewhat proud of teaching him and Shippou that phrase, I ask for specification, "Right now?" Inuyasha nods, and my eyes narrow at the anxious Souta. I at least _hope_ he has enough common sense to realize Hitomi doesn't need to go on a date right after seeing her ex pass on. "He better not," I mumble a bit too loudly. Kazuko gives me an odd look for presumably talking to air, but I pretend not to notice until she turns back to my brother. Once her attention is gone from me, I see the short distance between Souta and Hitomi, which makes one small detail about them both very obvious.

"Inuyasha?" I begin casually, and he gives me a sort of suspicious look that I don't meet, my gaze focused instead on the string binding the two junior high students together. "Do you think soul mates exist and have very odd ways of meeting?" Because, to be honest, I never quite imagined my brother meeting his twin flame this way.

And I don't know why, but this makes Inuyasha practically choke on air, which brings _another_ question into mind. "Also, I was wondering—"

"Yeah, wench?" he replies to my whisper without a second thought, and I resist the urge to stomp my penny loafer into his bare foot. See—there it is again.

"Can you explain to me whenever I've been mad at you since…" _Since Hojo Akitoki's death…_ "Well, you haven't been rocking on the floor, choking to death because of how I smell like cinnamon?"

A moment of quiet passes with me staring at Inuyasha, awaiting a response, and Inuyasha staring into space, probably trying to think of answer. Finally, he must've come up with nothing, because he turns and begins sprinting down the street without a word or glance my way.

_What in the sixth hell…?_ Any explanation would've done, but instead, the bastard just walks out without even a word as to why things have suddenly changed? Because when I first met this guy, he'd practically die whenever I got pissed, but when I get back from the pond, from defeating the kappa in general, he's suddenly immune? _What the HELL?_

"Sis, you ready to go?" Souta's voice enters my thoughts as his hand waves annoyingly in front of my face. Redirecting my irritation towards Inuyasha to my brother, Souta raises an eyebrow and explains, "You were glaring and looking confused at nothing there for a second, and Hitomi and Kazuko-san have already gone back inside."

Oh. Well, alright then.

I rub my temples and shake my head before deciding to forget about the bipolar hanyou haunting my family shrine. "What did you say to Hitomi?" I ask as Souta and I begin making our way down the street, though nowhere as quick as Inuyasha, instead taking our time and letting the sunset envelope us peacefully.

"I just gave her the homework she's missed and told her to call me, Satoru-kun, or one of her friends if she needed help with it," he says, but I can tell by his voice there's more. After giving him an expecting look, my brother sighs and admits, "And I may have told her if she needed someone to talk to about Makoto or anything that happened just now, she could call me about that, too."

Just like I didn't tell our cousin, I don't tell Souta what I've seen, either, preferring things to work out by themselves (making me, overall, a terrible matchmaker). However, from what I've learned about fate and relationships so far, I wonder why they had to meet this way specifically and how their relationship will play out from here. It's really something to think, but I save it for another time, deciding to focus on the discussion at hand instead.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he did pull through for me and have enough common sense to realize a new boyfriend is not what Hitomi needs right now. "And what about Kazuko? You were actually polite to her tonight," I tease.

Souta's eyes narrow at me, not enjoying the joke. "Well, first of all, I didn't want to get kicked out because I thought I could actually help you with the ghost this time." _Or run away like you have previously,_ I think sarcastically. "I still hate you for that, by the way," he reminds me with a frown.

"Oh, boohoo for you," I drone, bringing the back of my hand to my forehead dramatically, as if this whole situation were a tragedy. "All your hopes and dreams—shattered because of your elder sister, the big bad _wolf_."

"Screw you," Souta mumbles with averted eyes and a reddened face, making me genuinely laugh for the first time in a long while. However, his face quickly turns serious, sobering me up. "To be honest, Nee-chan… Ogawa-san just looked really vulnerable. And when I talked to her later… I don't know. I think she just felt helpless, like she had no effect on the situation at all." He licks his lips and blurts out, "Being with her reminded me of being with Tsuyu when you were gone."

I pause mid-walk, and Souta follows suit, looking at me with his matching eyes. "That look Ogawa-san had as she did laundry, even talked with you… It might've looked happy, but it reminded me of Tsuyu when you always left home to…do your job. Like even though she was smiling, she wanted to change things—she wanted her daughter back where she belonged."

It feels like all activity in my chest has stopped as I regard Souta with blank eyes. Even when his words ring strong and true, his posture is insecure and tense, and something about this whole conversation bothers me to no end.

"C'mon, twerp," I say, trying to steer us away from facing something we're not ready to face—what we've overlooked for years. "I have to make dinner, remember?"

Souta, though hesitant, listens to me, and we both quicken our step. Although I know the topic's still bothering him, it's bothering me, too. And whenever it's brought up, it never feels like it's the right time to mention that no matter how much we care for each other, my profession will always strain the relationship between Tsuyu and I. So, I hold back from admitting to something I don't like, letting this endless cycle in which no one is pleased continue.

However, that's the least of my worries.

* * *

**A/N: **I'll confess: this chapter got to me emotionally, but I think that was maybe necessary, given the fact she realized too late she was related to this case in more ways than one.

I hoped to give insight to Souta's character in the end and, if it weren't already recognized, the underlying tension between Tsuyu and Kagome. And if you're curious, I didn't want Souta to address Kazuko as "oba-san" because it feels like I've been using too many honorifics as it is, and yes, I purposely made Inuyasha not allergic to Kagome these past few chapters. Oh, whatever could it all mean? :O

_Chapter 11: "Awkward Mournings"_ is coming soon; thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! ^.^


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